Stay Free

Chapter 5: Guilty Until Proven Innocent

"Harry, wake up."

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. "Five more minutes," he mumbled into his pillow.

There was an exasperated sigh. "Harry, we have to be at the Ministry of Magic in an hour. Would you mind dragging yourself out of bed so you can eat before we go?"

"An hour?" Harry exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in bed. Remus Lupin, who was crouching beside his bed, chuckled softly.

"Yes, Harry, an hour," Lupin answered. "I let you oversleep. You looked like you needed it."

"Thanks," Harry said, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.

"Any bad dreams?" Lupin inquired casually.

Harry shook his head. "None."

"Good." Lupin clapped Harry on the shoulder, and shook it slightly. "Anyway, I bought you new robes yesterday. Your old ones don't fit anymore, I think you've grown about four inches," he added with a small smile.

Lupin reached into his pocket, pulled out a tiny package, and tapped it with his wand. It immediately swelled to a larger size, and Harry could see Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions written along the side.

"You didn't have to," Harry protested as Lupin opened the package and pulled out a pair of robes. They were black, with red and gold trim along the hem. "I could have bought them myself--"

"But you didn't," Lupin interrupted. "I did. I've got money to spare now, and I'm going to use it. Whether it's buying you robes or stocking up the kitchen, I'm not going to let Sirius's money rot in my Gringotts vault."

"Okay," Harry said awkwardly, and he took the robes out of Lupin's outstretched hands. "Thank you, Professor."

"I'm not your Professor anymore, Harry," Lupin scolded, but his eyes were twinkling. "And if I'm on first-name basis with you, you should do the same. Call me Remus now."

"Okay," Harry repeated, and smiled faintly. "Remus."

Lupin (No, Remus, Harry corrected) stood up, brushing dust off his cloak. "Well, what would you like for breakfast?"

Harry shrugged. "Anything, I suppose."

"Toast it is," Remus decided. "I'll make that, you can get dressed, and then we'll head off to the Ministry."

Harry nodded silently, and Remus left the room.

"I hope these didn't cost too much," Harry whispered to himself as he pulled on his robes. They fit perfectly, and Harry felt a stab of guilt dig into his stomach.

"Marmalade?" Remus inquired as Harry made his way down to the kitchen.

"Please," Harry answered, and sat down at the long table. Remus busied himself at the counter, and brought over two plates a minute later.

"Eat up," he ordered, and Harry bit into the toast to hide his grin.

They ate in silence, until Remus said, "Are you nervous?"

Harry swallowed his food before saying, "Yes. Very much."

"I am, too," Remus replied quietly. "They're making us all go under Veritaserum."

"I know," Harry said. "Snape told me."

"And I bet he told you how to beat Veritaserum?" Remus supplied, looking amused.

"Well, yes," said Harry guiltily. "Loopholes and such."

"It's a good skill to have," Remus mused. "Being able to get away with half-lying in Veritaserum. And, because they're having some random person from the Ministry make it, it probably won't be as powerful. We'll be fine."

"I'm still nervous," Harry confessed. "What if it turns out that they don't find Sirius innocent? And it's Fudge who's going to be questioning us, right? So he'll just twist everything to make it look like Sirius was guilty."

Remus nodded solemnly. "Yes. But, we have Dumbledore and Madam Bones on our side, not to mention half the Ministry. They ran a story about it in the Daily Prophet, I've got it around here somewhere--"

Remus stood up, searched the kitchen, and returned with a damp newspaper.

"Sorry," he apologized as Harry raised his eyebrows. "Got in the way of rain last night."

Harry gently pulled the wet pieces of paper apart, and began to read.

SIRIUS BLACK:

INNOCENT, OR GUILTY?

Today, Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, will be leading in the defence of Sirius Black, who was convicted of killing thirteen people with one curse fifteen years ago. Dumbledore strongly believes that Peter Pettigrew, one of the people supposedly killed, was the one who betrayed the Potters by giving information to the Dark Lord. Whether or not this is true, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has agreed to take this to court.

Joining Dumbledore is Amelia Bones, who works for the Ministry as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. "I believe that Sirius was innocent," she said during a press conference last Tuesday. She is to be doing the interrogation of the witnesses during the trial, along with Fudge. "I don't care what anyone else says. I went to school with him, and that man was no murderer."

"I know for a fact that Sirius was innocent," said Dumbledore at the same press conference. "With the evidence given by Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Remus Lupin, I can prove to you that Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, is still alive and at large."

It is also one of the few times a strong Truth Potion will be used during a trial. All the witnesses will be taking Veritaserum before they come to the stand.

"This is completely idiotic," Fudge scoffed when asked for comment about the trial. "Black was found guilty, and there is no reason to believe that he was innocent. I personally think this is a publicity stunt."

Publicity stunt or not, the trial will be begin on August 6th.

Harry looked up from the newspaper. "Whoever wrote this actually believes that Sirius could be innocent! It's not one sided anymore!"

"I know. Fudge can't be leaning on the Daily Prophet anymore because they have to show both sides of the trial. It's the law."

"Good," Harry said, re-reading the article. His stomach was twisting into knots as he thought about the trial. What if Sirius was found guilty again? On the other hand, what would happen if he was found innocent? What would the wizarding world think?

"Harry," Remus said, jolting Harry out of his thoughts, "it's time to go. We're taking a Portkey, right to the door of the courtroom. You remember how to use them?"

Harry nodded, and suddenly wished he hadn't had breakfast. The toast he had just eaten was twisting around in his stomach, begging to climb up his throat and fly onto the spotless kitchen table.

Remus grabbed a frying pan off the counter, and handed part of it to Harry, who took the handle reluctantly.

"One--two--three!"

Harry felt the familiar jerk under his navel, the Grimmauld Place kitchen disappearing before his eyes to turn into a rush of colour and sound, swirling fast enough to make Harry sick to his stomach more than he already was, until--

"Oof!" Harry exclaimed as he landed on a stone floor. He sat up, rubbing his sore elbow.

Remus, who was already standing, bent over and offered Harry his hand. Harry took it gratefully, and Remus pulled him up.

"We're going to be in the same courtroom that your hearing took place," Remus explained in a low whisper. He jerked his thumb to the dark door behind him. "This sounds very cliché, but try not to say anything you'd regret."

"Okay," Harry said, his voice cracking slightly. "S-Should we go inside?"

Before Remus could answer, an official looking witch arrived.

"Messers Lupin and Potter?" They nodded in assent. "Would you please follow me."

They were led through a door to their right and into a small antechamber.

Waiting for them, they found Dumbledore.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, somewhat mystified.

"We've all been made to come here until everyone's been seated," said Dumbledore. He was smoothing down his beard as he spoke. "I believe it's because of all the media interest. Wizards and witches from all over the world are coming to see if Sirius will be cleared or not."

"They've opened the Wizengamot to the public?" Remus asked sharply.

"Apparently so," Dumbledore intoned.

Remus rolled his eyes. Harry's stomach clenched suddenly with fear. Not only were they going to slaughter Sirius, whatever higher power up there rest his soul, they were going to do it in front of an audience. There was no justice in the world. He glanced at Remus. He looked as though he wished to go on a mad rampage and kill them all. Of course, Remus could do that if he really wished to. Harry hoped he wouldn't.

The official looking witch returned, and beckoned them into the main room.

Harry swallowed his fear and walked inside, taking in the familiar room. Stone walls, torches that were dimly lit, the benches that rose high above the ground, though this time they were split in two; half of them were on one side of the room, the other half on the opposite side. There was the chair that had chains across the arms. Also, two tables between the groups of benches, and a high-backed chair in the middle of the tables. Standing off to the side was a group of people, clustered together and talking amongst each other. The Headmaster stepped into the centre of the group, and Mad-Eye Moody stepped away.

"Morning, Potter, Lupin," Mad-Eye growled, limping over to them. "Feeling all right?"

"I suppose," Harry said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He craned his

neck, trying to see over the ex-Auror's shoulder. He couldn't believe the sheer amount of people in the room. All for Sirius. He smiled slightly, even though inside his heart was breaking. Sirius would have loved this. All the attention, just for him. "Are Ron and Hermione here?"

"No, not yet," Moody said, and his mismatched eyes gave an unexpected twinkle. "Molly just sent over an owl. Apparently, Fred accidentally turned Ron into a turtle with one of the twins' new treats. Molly is currently transfiguring him back to normal, with some help from Hermione."

Harry chuckled at the thought of Ron as a turtle, and then turned his thoughts back to the trial. He replayed every moment he had had with Sirius--painful as it was--trying to remember all the specific details of his third year, when he had discovered Sirius was his godfather; his fourth year, when Sirius had come to hide in Hogsmeade as his Animagus form; and, the hardest, his fifth.

Remus took Harry's arm and led him towards the series of benches. People were already sitting down. Harry recognized Nymphadora Tonks, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid. A crowd of people stood off to the side, each holding a notebook and murmuring various recording charms. Reporters, Harry decided.

An instant later, the entire Weasley family (minus Percy and Charlie) and Hermione spilled into the courtroom. Mrs. Weasley was eyeing Fred and George, who were sniggering at Ron, with a motherly disgust.

"Hey," Ron whispered, sliding onto the bench beside Harry. "What're we all

waiting for?"

"The Wizengamot," Remus answered as Hermione sat on the other side of Ron.

"Oh, this is terrifying," Hermione said in a hissed whisper. She was fumbling with her hands in her lap, looking pale. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Not if I do first," Harry muttered back. "I'm going to have to offer more

evidence than you."

"Hush," said Remus. He had his hands clasped together, and his elbows rested on the arms of his chair. "You're both making me nervous. Besides, I have to offer more evidence than both of you put together, so I win."

He gave a faint smile, and Harry returned it.

Then the door burst open. At least twenty people strode in, Fudge in the lead. All were wearing plum robes with a silver W on the left side of their chest. Harry felt like something had just hit him in the stomach. It was the

Wizengamot.

They all walked to the other benches, taking their seats in a huff. Harry

recognized the man with a large moustache and woman with frizzy hair from his hearing, but all the others, beside the Minister, were strangers. Fudge took the chair behind one of the tables, Percy at his side. A short, fair-haired woman followed. She took the high-backed chair, sitting straight, her eyes narrowed. She looked down at Fudge, nodding.

"Let's begin, shall we?" she said impatiently.

"Allow me to introduce Mrs. Robin Winchcombe," said Fudge dryly. But Harry could tell that he was not as bored as he sounded; there were pink circles in his cheeks, and his eyes were darting around the courtroom. "A member of the Ministry's Law Enforcement, she will be overseeing the trial. May I remind you that there will be no photography for the duration of the trial."

Fudge shuffled a couple of papers importantly, and turned to his left. Percy

Weasley, looking completely oblivious to the fact that most of his family was sitting on the opposite side of the room, uncorked a bottle of ink and dipped a quill into it. He began to scribble across a piece of parchment as Fudge spoke.

"Investigation of the past life of the late Sirius Black, who was suspected of

murder, given twelve years in Azkaban--"

"Without a trial," Harry said under his breath. Remus gave him a warning look, and he shut his mouth.

"--and the matter is currently...er...being looked over again," Fudge finished, looking like he didn't know what to say. He glanced at Winchcombe, who sighed.

"Madam Bones, would you like to begin?" Winchcombe asked.

Harry turned his head to see Madam Bones, clutching a stack of parchment, stand up from her chair on the opposite side of Winchcombe walk to the centre of the courtroom. She looked slightly nervous; perhaps it was the fact that her colleagues were all glaring at her with loathing.

"Sirius Black," she began, pacing back and forth, "was wrongly accused of the murder of twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew fifteen years ago. The Ministry, eager to have someone to blame for the mess with Voldemort"--the other side of the room gasped audibly--"immediately took him to Azkaban. They snapped his wand without doing Prior Incantato, and did not give him a chance to defend himself. He spent twelve years in prison, twelve years that could have been spent doing his previous job as an Auror. With the amount of able Aurors dwindling, his skill would have been invaluable."

Madam Bones walked to the opposite side of the room, gripping the bench.

"I want you to listen to the testimony. Forget about the rumours that were

flying around all those years ago, and forget what has been told to you. Today you will learn the truth. It will be hard to listen to, and may be frowned upon. The truth, my friends, is what we need."

She turned on her heel and sat down. Fudge stood up.

"Sirius Black," he too began, though his voice was drenched with loathing, "is not innocent. He is a guilty man. Would an innocent man laugh his way to Azkaban? Would a sane man willingly spend twelve years in Azkaban, if he was innocent? He is a Dark Wizard that managed to escape Azkaban, and was a supporter of the Dark Lord. The truth has already been decided."

The Minister sat back down, looking overly pleased with himself. Harry snorted.

"Madam Bones, please begin with your witnesses," Winchcombe instructed. She folded her hands carefully. "I do not want any interruptions while she is questioning the witnesses, Minister. You will have your chance to interrogae."

Fudge reddened. Harry suppressed another snort. Madam Bones turned to look at him, and his throat closed up.

"Would Harry Potter please step forward?" she said, her usual booming voice reduced to a normal level.

Harry took a deep breath and stood up. Remus, Ron, and Hermione all patted his back as he strode past them. Dumbledore sat beside Madam Bones's empty chair, both serene and grave. Harry sat in the chair, trying to relax. The chains clinked and rubbed against his wrists, but they didn't clamp down.

"Veritaserum?" Madam Bones said crisply. The moustached man handed her a small bottle, and she nodded curtly. Reaching into the pocket of her robe, she pulled out what looked like a dropper, like what would be used in a science lab in the Muggle world.

"Swallow all of this," Madam Bones instructed, handed the dropper to Harry. He took it nervously, opened his mouth, and squeezed the contents into his mouth.

It was unlike anything Harry had ever felt before. The potion slid down his throat, cold enough to make him choke. The coldness spread to his tips of his fingers, down his chest, through his legs, finally ending at the tips of his toes.

Harry choked again. It felt like an icy hand was gripping his chest, twisting it enough to make him wince. His eyes clouded over, and he shut them to stop his head from spinning.

"Name, please." Madam Bones's voice drifted through the fog that was his mind.

"Harry James Potter," Harry answered before he realized it.

"You were the godson of Sirius Black, correct?"

"Yes," Harry said, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"And Remus Lupin is now, correct?"

"Yes," Harry repeated. "And no, I don't have a problem with that. He's cool."

There was a trickle of laughter from the right side of the courtroom. Harry opened his eyes, wincing as his head pounded. He peered through the fog, and saw Remus chuckling.

Madam Bones smiled, and Harry was grateful that he could see her clearly.

"Now, would you please explain the whole Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew mess?"

"All right," Harry said, mentally calming himself. "Because Voldemort"--There was a gasp from the left side of the room, but Harry continued--"was after my family, Sirius was the Secret Keeper for their home. He decided that it was too easy; Voldemort was likely to come after him, as he was James's best friend and the godfather to me. So, he had James and Lily change the Secret Keeper to Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, because no one would expect him." Harry paused to wipe the name off his lips. "So, Wormtail told Voldemort where James and Lily were hiding, and when Sirius checked Wormtail's hiding place and discovered that he wasn't there, he knew what happened." Harry took a deep breath, willing the tears not to form. This was so unfair. Sirius didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve any of this.

"And then when he found Wormtail, that rat exclaimed that Sirius had betrayed Lily and James, and then blasted apart the street with his wand behind his back. He cut off his finger, and then transfigured himself into a rat."

"A rat, you say," Madam Bones said, looking amused. "Do you mean to say that Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I think Remus can tell you more about that then I can."

"On a first name basis now, are we?" sniggered Fudge.

Harry whipped his head around, his long fingers curling into fists. "I would prefer, Minister," Harry spat, "that you keep your mouth shut while I am talking. It's rude to interrupt."

"You'll have your chance to interrogate Potter, Cornelius," Percy said soothingly as Fudge opened his mouth to retort.

Harry stared at Percy. Since when was he calling Harry by his last name? Or on a first-name basis with Fudge? Or become such an idiot?

Winchcombe was glaring at Fudge. "If you comment again, Minister, you will lose your chance to question Potter."

Fudge looked flustered. He shut his mouth abruptly.

"Now the interruptions have ceased," Madam Bones continued, throwing a look at Fudge that said Do that again and I'll feed your balls to my piranhas, "could you tell us what happened in your third year, Harry, in the Shrieking Shack?"

Harry explained the events; himself, Hermione, and Ron sneaking out under his Invisibility Cloak to see Hagrid because of Buckbeak, seeing "Scabbers", Sirius, as a dog, dragging Ron into the Whomping Willow with the help of Crookshanks, how Remus had discovered where they were, transforming Scabbers back into Peter Pettigrew, how Snape had walked in, and then finally how Harry agreed that Sirius and Remus were right. He left out the part about the Time-Turner he and Hermione had used to save both Buckbeak and Sirius.

"And you spared Pettigrew's life?" Madam Bones inquired.

"Yes," Harry said angrily. "That was incredibly stupid of me, because he eventually helped Voldemort come back."

"We'll discuss that later. Now, would you please explain your correspondence with Sirius over the past few years?"

Harry did. He was grateful that Madam Bones had worded the questions carefully. Though Snape believed the effects of Veritaserum was in your mind, the potion was still compelling him to tell the truth.

"Thank you, Harry," said Madam Bones, smiling gently. "That will be all from me." She turned away from him, taking the empty seat beside the Fudge. The Minister stood up, and Harry felt a bubble of dread in his chest.

"Harry Potter," Fudge sneered, "do you believe that you are telling the truth?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe that Black was innocent?"

"Yes!" This really was beyond a joke. Hadn't he made his position as far as that was concerned perfectly clear? Or did he need to use an Sonorous Charm and a megaphone to get the point across? A radio announcement? A parade, perhaps?

"Tell me, Potter..." Gone was the man who had once surveyed Harry with kindness. Fudge was angry now, splotches of red in his cheeks and his chubby hands curled into fists. "How did Black die? Did Death Eaters torture him? Was it a simple Killing Curse? Did you watch him suffer? Was he stupid enough to walk into a trap, just as you did?"

Harry kept his mouth shut, tears falling from his eyes. How dare Fudge think of Sirius that way, how dare he call both of them stupid. And to say it with that tone, the sarcasm and contempt lacing it sent Harry up the wall. A red mist hazed Harry's vision as the oh so sweet thought of tearing off Fudge's head and dropping a little surprise down his windpipe entered his mind. His breath caught in his throat, he was having trouble breathing--

"He fell through the veil!" Harry gasped, clutching his chest. The pain was gone as he spoke the words that fell out of his mouth. "Bellatrix Lestrange cursed him, and he fell through. He died!"

"Ah, yes. The Veil of Death." Fudge's lips twisted into a cruel smile. "That is all for me. You may leave, Potter."

Harry got up from the chair, his legs shaking. He was horribly embarrassed. He had just cried in front of a room full of people, and Fudge's question had quaked his nerves.

"May I request a recess?' Madam Bones asked Winchcombe. "An hour, perhaps, given the..." She fished for the right words. "...heightened emotional state of the witnesses, and the prosecutor."

"Agreed. This court will reconvene in one hour. Dismissed."

Winchcombe sent wand sparks into the air. They formed an enormous clock, counting down from sixty minutes. She then left the courtroom without another word.

"Oh, Harry!" said Hermione softly when the low murmur of voices had reached high enough that she could speak without having her own voice echo. "I can't believe he did that!"

"Cold hearted bastard," Ron hissed, shooting a dark look at the Minister. "The whole point of that was just to embarrass you, wasn't it?"

"I believe so," Remus commented. He, too, was glaring at Fudge.

"It worked," Harry said grimly. He hastily wiped his eyes, smiling faintly when he spoke. "I guess the Veritaserum is still in my system."

"It will stay in your bloodstream for a couple of hours," Hermione recited, as though she were reading from a textbook. "We just won't ask you any embarrassing questions."

"Thank you for that," said Harry gratefully. "With all these reporters--"

"Mr. Potter!" one of said reporters called out, holding up his camera. "Could we have a picture?"

"Please, no," Harry whispered.

"How about a few questions?" asked a pretty witch in the front. "Witch Weekly would love an interview with the Boy-Who-Lived. My room number at the Leaky Cauldron is twelve. Stop by anytime." She batted her eyelids at Harry, causing him to blush.

Ron nudged him, grinning broadly. Harry's blush deepened, and the witch giggled. Hermione rolled her eyes, and Remus looked as though he was holding back from doing the same.

"We have this time away from the courtroom, let's use it," Remus suggested calmly as the witch waved to get his attention. "And we can get away from the press. The trial isn't in progress, so they're free to take pictures and yell things out at you."

"I don't mind it," said Ron honestly.

"I do," said Harry immediately. "And I'm hungry again. And I want to get away from Fudge. And I want to see what that witch looks like in person." He clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening. Remus chuckled.

"It would be best if you don't speak at all, Harry. We'll try not to ask any questions."

Harry nodded, his hand still covering his own mouth. He dropped it. "Where can we get something to eat?"

"There's that Auror I went to school with," said Remus casually. "Kingsley Shacklebolt. He can probably find a house-elf for us."

"And you can see an old friend, too," added Hermione, playing along. Harry kept his mouth shut again. "C'mon. I'm hungry, too."

The four of them stood, heading for the door. Immediately, they were bombarded with questions from the reporters. The flash of the cameras blinded Harry slightly, and he ducked his head to avoid it. Everyone crowded around them, but Remus put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and pushed him through the horde of reporters.

"Have a girl in your life, Harry?"

"What about your new godfather? What's he like?"

"Ron, Hermione! What's Harry like in person?"

"Ron! With your brother Percy at Fudge's side and your father siding with Dumbledore, where do you plan to go?"

"Mr. Lupin! There were rumours surrounding yourself and Mr. Black--"

"What was Mr. Black like when he was alive?"

"Ever had him in bed?"

"Harry, what do you plan to do if Sirius Black is declared innocent?"

"Hermione, Hermione! What's it like being a Muggle-born in a wizarding world, surrounded by all this controversy over Sirius Black? Is it difficult to deal with?"

"Call me on the Floo, Harry!"

The last one was from the attractive girl from Witch Weekly as they finally shut the door behind them. Harry, who had been holding his mouth shut against all the questions, spilled out all his answers.

"I don't have a girlfriend. Remus is incredibly kind and listens to me when I need it, and I'm glad I have him. I'm just Harry in person. Ron better stick with Dumbledore. I don't know anything about the rumours about Remus and Sirius. Sirius was an exceptionally caring godfather when he was alive, and no, I never shagged him. I don't know what I'll do if Sirius is declared innocent. Cry my eyes out because he wasn't alive to hear it himself, probably. Hermione is one of the smartest, most confident girls I know, so I'd bet she can take this controversy. And yes, if I could, I would call you on the Floo!"

Harry clutched at his chest when he was finished, nearly weeping with relief. Oh, it hurt to hold yourself back...He then noticed that his two best friends and guardian were watching him carefully.

"Veritaserum is still in my bloodstream?" Harry offered. "Yes, it is. Oh, bloody hell!"

Remus sighed. "I think I'm going to ask Winchcombe for permission to spell your mouth shut. Or at least put a Silencing Charm on you."

"I second that," Hermione piped in. "You'll be charged with contempt of court if you speak out of order."

Harry clamped a hand down on his mouth again. Hermione giggled, but her expression faltered slightly when she looked over his shoulder. Harry followed her line of sight, and saw a house-elf scurrying down the corridor. It was carrying three enormous trays with magic, levitating them above it's head and whimpering.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. She hurried over to the house-elf and picked one of the trays out of the air. "Let me help you with this--"

"Miggy is not needing any help!" the house-elf squeaked indignantly. "Miggy can do it herself!"

"Miggy does need help," Hermione insisted, holding the tray in front of her. "And I will help you carry this inside. You don't want to spill this before you even get into the courtroom. C'mon, I'll help you give this out to everyone inside..."

Ignoring Miggy's high-pitched protests, Hermione marched into the courtroom with the house-elf behind her. Harry, Ron, and Remus watched her, all three shaking their head and sighing.

"It's that 'spew' stuff again, isn't it?" Ron asked Remus.

"It's not 'spew', Ron. It's the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare," Remus corrected. "I think you should be proud of your friend for standing up for what she believes in. Though they don't like it, the house-elves do want their freedom. They just don't know it yet."

"You sound just like Hermione," Harry muttered. "Can we go back inside now? I'm really hungry."

"I'm sorry," Remus apologized. "I didn't know a house-elf would bring us food."

"It's all right. Just help me get away from the reporters, all right?"

"I've been practicing Banishing Charms," Ron suggested. Harry's lips curved into half a smile at the thought.

"Tempting, but no."

They all managed to get back to their seats without embarrassing themselves or Banishing various reporters to different countries. When they sat back down at the bench with Hermione, she had already gotten them all plates full of food. Ron grabbed his eagerly.

"Thanks, Hermione. You can be our house-elf, if you like."

Hermione glared at him, but there was something twinkling in her eyes. Harry smiled again. Somehow, Ron and Hermione's bickering was somewhat soothing. Remus seemed to notice it, but he didn't say anything.

When the clock reached its end, the wand sparks blew up. Loudly. Harry covered his ears at the sound, wincing. It gave Miggy a chance to run across the room and scoop up their plates without Hermione's help. Winchcombe entered the room once the wand sparks finished exploding, followed by various members of the Wizengamot and other witnesses.

"All right, ready to start up again," said Winchcombe forcefully, taking her high-backed chair almost daintily. She nodded to Fudge, who was still flushed, and to Dumbledore, who looked as though he hadn't moved in the last hour. "Madam Bones, please start with your next witness."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley?" Madam Bones called out. Ron stepped forward, his ears red. He took the Veritaserum, sat down, and linked his fingers together.

"Are you Ronald Bilius Weasley?" Madam Bones asked.

"Yes."

"Is the story that Harry just told about the Shrieking Shack completely and fully true?"

"Yes," Ron said, nodding.

"You had Wormtail, or Scabbers, as a pet, I understand."

"Yes," Ron repeated. He jerked his head towards Percy. "He had him first, though, and passed him on to me."

Percy jerked as though he had been slapped across the face, but Ron remained still, with no expression. It was either the Veritaserum, or perhaps the fact that Ron didn't care about his elder brother anymore.

"Do you believe that Sirius Black was innocent?"

"Of course."

"For the record, we need a yes or no."

"Yes."

"That will be all from me."

As Madam Bones returned to her seat, Winchcombe looked down at Fudge. "You may proceed, Minister."

"No questions," said Fudge. Percy's cheeks were flushed.

"Very well. Hermione Jane Granger?"

Hermione went through the Veritaserum procedure as Ron sat down. Harry watched, his hands gripping the tops of his knees hard enough to leave marks. Ron had done well, yes, but he was afraid Fudge would start questioning her simply because she was Muggle-born...

"Are you Hermione Jane Granger?"

"Yes."

"Is the story that Harry Potter told completely true?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe Sirius Black is innocent?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Hermione. Feel free to question my witness, Minister."

"No questions," Fudge repeated, and Harry felt a wave of relief. Good. He also noticed that the Minister was silently fuming, and more relief surged through him.

"We will finish with the last witness tomorrow," Winchcombe declared. "All of you, please arrive here at the same time tomorrow. Good day."

* * *

The night at Grimmauld Place had been difficult. Harry couldn't sleep, even though he knew he didn't have to answer any more questions. And Remus was the first witness the next day. He slept--for lack of a better word--for at least two hours.

* * *

"Next witness is Remus John Lupin," Madam Bones recited the next morning. "Albus Dumbledore will do his questioning." And she sat down as Dumbledore stood up.

"Good luck," Harry whispered, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.

"I'm going to need it," Remus whispered, a ghost of a grin flitting across his face. He walked to Dumbledore, threw back the Veritaserum, and sat in the chair. The chains clinked, as though wishing to clamp his arms down.

"Name, please?"

"Remus John Lupin."

"You were friends with Sirius Black, correct?"

"Yes." Remus swallowed nervously. "Ever since the Sorting. He was really nervous, because he thought that hat was going to put him in Slytherin."

"Because Blacks were normally associated with the Dark Arts," Dumbledore supplied. Remus nodded.

"And I thought the hat was going to put me in Slytherin as well, because I am a Dark creature. But I didn't tell him that, of course."

"You were also friends with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, correct?"

"Yes. I met Peter on the train, and we were introduced to Sirius and James when they threw an exploding Chocolate Frog into our compartment." Harry snorted. It sounded like a thing Fred and George would do. "But we all became good friends, straight through our years in Hogwarts."

"Can you please tell us how they all became Animagi?"

Fudge jumped up in his seat. "Preposterous!" he fumed, slamming his fist onto the table. "Schoolboys couldn't become Animagi! Not to mention it was illegal!"

"Sit down, Cornelius," Winchcombe snapped. "This is your last warning."

Fudge sat down reluctantly. Dumbledore turned to Remus, and gestured for him to answer his question.

"They discovered I was a werewolf in our second year," Remus said, fiddling with his hands. "They realized that I always left on the full moon. And the fact that I had said my Aunt Sally had just died, when she had 'died' last year."

"But they didn't shun you," Dumbledore said.

"No, they didn't. They decided to become Animagi, because a werewolf is only a danger to humans. If they were animals, they could keep me company in the Shrieking Shack."

"How long did it take them?"

"Three years. They completed it in our fifth year."

"What exact animals were they?"

"James was a stag. Sirius was a dog. Peter was a rat."

With glee, Harry noticed that Fudge was itching to stand up again.

"Now, would you tell us how much you've seen Sirius in the past few years?"

Remus squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Sirius escaped on Buckbeak after the incident in the Shrieking Shack in Harry's third year, and he came to stay with me after some Muggles in the tropics began to recognize him."

"And where is that?"

"A flat in London."

"I see...And then what about the next year?"

"Harry had written to Sirius, explaining that he had been entered into the Triwizard Tournament by accident. Sirius decided that he should keep a closer eye on Harry, so he hid in a cave near Hogsmeade with Buckbeak. He stayed mostly in his dog form."

"And what about last year?"

Harry held his breath, praying that nothing about the Order would be slipped. Dumbledore was wording his questions just as carefully as Madam Bones had, but what if--

"Sirius came to stay with me again, but we realized it wasn't safe. He went to his parent's house, the one he had ran away from when he was sixteen."

"And did you go with him?"

"Yes, to be sure he was safe and had enough food."

"Were there any other guests?" Harry made sure his sharp intake of breath wasn't audible as he buried his mouth into his shirtsleeve. What on earth was Dumbledore doing? What a stupid question to ask, especially when one is trying to protect a secret organization!

"Yes." Remus bit his lip enough to make it bleed. Harry was sure he was trying not to say too much. "The Weasleys. Hermione. Harry."

"What were the Weasleys doing there?" Fudge barked.

"Minister, you have lost the privilege to question the witnesses!" Winchcombe snarled. Harry caught the slightest of a smile on Dumbledore's lips. Ah. So there had been a point to the questions. She turned back to Remus. "Thank you. That's enough for now."

Remus stood up, wiping the blood off his mouth. "That," he whispered to Harry as he sat back down, "is why I was never the Secret-Keeper. I can't keep my mouth shut."

"You did fine," Harry whispered back as Madam Bones called Professor McGonagall to the chair.

"You taught Sirius Black in Transfiguration, did you not?" Dumbledore was saying as Harry turned his attention back to the trial.

An hour later, he was feeling very restless. McGonagall had answered all the questions about Sirius's, James's, and Peter's skill in Transfiguration. Tonks had told them about how she had barely known Sirius until the previous year, because her mother--his cousin--had married a Muggle-born, and Sirius hadn't avoided her because of it. Hagrid spoke about Sirius as a student; quite smart, good sense of humour, and always stuck by his friends.

"We will have a brief break while the Wizengamot examines the evidence," said Winchcombe. She yawned, covering it with her hand. "Please remain seated. I do hope this won't take long."

And it didn't. Ten minutes after the Wizengamot grouped together, the moustached men walked forward.

"The Wizengamot requests proof of Peter Pettigrew's life, if he is still alive," he said dully. Fudge smirked. "We ask that it is from someone who has not been to a hearing in front of the Wizengamot before, or associated with said someone."

Harry gritted his teeth. They were going to throw away their testimony? This was Fudge's work, he was sure...

Winchcombe looked down. "If you have a witness, please provide him or her."

Madam Bones and Dumbledore were whispering together, gesturing with their hands nervously. Dumbledore seemed to be trying to convince Madam Bones of something, as she was shaking her head furiously. Finally, he seemed to have persuaded her, for Madam Bones stood up.

"We request a day to find our witness. He's out of the country at the moment."

Fudge sputtered wordlessly, and Winchcombe glared at him.

"Though you are Minister, Mr. Fudge, this does not give you the right to speak out of turn in court. I agree to Madam Bones's request. We will finish this all tomorrow, I hope."

* * *

Harry didn't sleep well again. And after he had seen Remus stumbling up the stairs, smelling of whiskey, he doubted the werewolf wasn't either.

* * *

"I hope Dumbledore's got something hidden up that sleeve of his," Mrs. Weasley said nervously as they all entered the courtroom. "That was a dirty trick the Wizengamot pulled."

"Fudge ordered it, probably," said Ron grimly. "Slimy git."

"Be quiet, Ron," Mr. Weasley ordered sharply. "Let's try not to get your father fired, shall we?"

Ron blanched. Harry felt a stab of sympathy for his friend.

They all sat quietly while everyone entered the room. Winchcombe entered last, nodding to everyone as she did.

"Well. Have you found your witness, Madam Bones?"

Madam Bones glanced at Dumbledore, who inclined his head. She took a deep breath.

"Percy Weasley, would you go fetch Draco Malfoy for me? He's standing outside, in the corridor."

Harry hid his choke of surprise with a closed fist, miming a cough. On his left, Ron was doing the same thing. Hermione leaned forward expectantly, while Remus was slowly nodding. What was Malfoy doing in the courtroom? How could he offer evidence of Wormtail's betrayal? It didn't make any sense...

Percy seemed to be feeling the same way, for he was mouthing wordlessly like a fish out of water. Fudge kicked him in the shin, and he stood up abruptly.

A minute later, Malfoy was walking towards Madam Bones. He was unnaturally pale, and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. A fading purple bruise occupied his left cheek. He was oblivious to the gasps and points from the rest of the room.

Madam Bones handed Malfoy three drops of Veritaserum. He threw it back, wincing at the taste. Dumbledore stood as Malfoy took the chained chair.

"Name?" Dumbledore said sharply. "Quickly, please."

"Draco Thomas Malfoy."

"Your father, Lucius Malfoy, is a Death Eater, correct?"

"Yes." Malfoy's face had no expression, and his voice was flat. "Currently in Azkaban."

"He and his fellow Death Eaters had meetings at your home in Wiltshire, correct?"

"Yes. Almost every weekend, ever since my fourth year."

"And Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, was, and still is, a Death Eater?" Dumbledore continued. He was pacing up and down the courtroom.

"Yes." Malfoy's voice was light, as though surprised. "He's the Dark Lord's most trusted servant, as he helped return him to power. And he is an Animagus. I saw him transform once or twice. And he's got a silver hand. A present from the Dark Lord himself, he told me."

This emitted loud gasps from the left side of the courtroom. Two witches in the front row began whispering together. One of them grabbed the moustached man into the group. Harry was pleased. Fudge was livid.

"Why didn't you tell anyone that you had communicated with Wormtail?"

Malfoy cast his eyes downward. "My father can get very angry, very often." He absent-mindedly touched his bruised cheek. "And besides, who would believe me? They'd just say I was going along with Potter's story,"--He jerked his head at Harry--"who everyone assumed was mad."

"Very angry, very often?" Dumbledore repeated.

"Yes. He was never pleased with me. I never lived up to my potential, supposedly. Lucius didn't like the fact that Granger beat me in all our exams. And that I didn't want to become a Death Eater. It's Malfoy tradition, you know. For your sixteenth birthday, you receive the Dark Mark. I didn't want it, though. He wasn't very pleased."

"I would assume so," said Dumbledore, sounding amused. "So, to recap: You know Wormtail is alive. You know that he is an Animagus. You know Sirius Black was innocent."

Malfoy nodded his head and mumbled a, "Yes," after each sentence.

"Would you swear it on your life?"

"Yes," Malfoy said quickly. "I know that Black is, or he was, innocent. And Peter Pettigrew is the reason the Potters are dead."

Dumbledore turned slowly on his heel. "I believe that is sufficient."

Winchcombe nodded, obviously satisfied. "Those in favour of clearing Sirius Black of all charges?"

Remus reached over and grasped Harry's hand in his own. Harry squeezed tightly, silently counting. One--two--three--four--five--oh, they were already put their hands down--

"Those in favour of closing the case and leaving it as is?"

Only a couple raised their hands. Harry silently cheered.

Fudge looked murderous. He said with forced calm, "Very well. Sirius Black is cleared of all charges. I'll let the Aurors know about Peter Pettigrew...This concludes the--er--re-trial of Sirius Black--"

"He didn't get a trial," Harry whispered under his breath.

"--and I hope you all have a good day."

Fudge nodded his head jerkily to the Wizengamot, and they followed him out the door. It wasn't until the last member of the Wizengamot had left that the truth struck Harry across the face.

They had just proclaimed Sirius innocent.

Harry was dimly aware that Remus had dropped his hand and was hugging him fiercely. "He's innocent, Harry," Remus said in a rush, squeezing his shoulders, "he may be dead, but he's innocent. The Ministry is finally falling back into place, everything's going to be back to normal--"

"And we owe it all to Malfoy," Ron said with slight disgust. Harry looked over his friend's shoulder, and saw the silver-haired boy discussing something with Dumbledore.

Harry shrugged. "It could be worse. They might have not believed us at all."

"This is true," Hermione agreed. Her cheeks were pink with excitement. "Oh, Harry, this is wonderful! The wizarding world is going to know about Sirius now--"

"A little late, perhaps," Remus interrupted with a crooked grin. He removed his arm from Harry's shoulder. "We've all been too depressed and glum. We should celebrate Sirius's life."

"Grimmauld Place?" Harry muttered, his eyes darting around to be sure no one was listening.

Remus nodded. "Ever since the reading of Sirius's will, Dumbledore has been working overtime to put in new wards. Narcissa still knows where Grimmauld Place is, so she could have leaked some information to Lucius when she visited him in Azkaban."

"So, can I spend the rest of the summer there?" Harry asked hopefully. "Not like there's much of it left," he added regretfully.

Remus hesitated. "We'll have to talk to Dumbledore."

"But can I go now?" Harry persisted, trying not to sound like a whiny child.

"There's a meeting tonight--"

"Wonderful," Hermione said swiftly. "We can all celebrate the fact that Sirius is now thought of as innocent."

"You're quick, Hermione," Harry said admiringly. She gave him a mock curtsy.

Remus sighed. "I see I am being out-voted. I'll discuss it with Dumbledore."

"Yes!" Ron pumped his fist into the air. "Harry, I haven't seen you properly all summer. It isn't fair, I'm telling you. I've been stuck with Hermione the entire time, and all she wants to do is homework."

Hermione nudged him in the side as Ron rolled his eyes for dramatic effect.

"I'm going to go talk to Malfoy," said Harry as Remus pulled Dumbledore aside.

Ron stopped mid-fake-punch. Hermione took this as an excuse to ruffle his hair. "What do you mean, talk to Malfoy?"

"We owe him," Harry reminded his red-haired friend. "If it wasn't for him, the Ministry probably wouldn't have believed us at all."

Ron shrugged, and Harry walked over to Malfoy, who was leaning against one of the benches. He turned when he heard Harry approaching. There were murmurs from the reporters, and Harry heard a camera flashing.

"Potter," Malfoy said, nodding his head.

"Malfoy," Harry replied, mimicking the Slytherin.

"What now, Potter?" Malfoy said, before Harry could open his mouth again. "Are you going to taunt me about my father rotting away in a cell in Azkaban?"

"Er, no," Harry said. "I wanted to thank you."

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. The rich are always good at that sort of thing. "Thank me?"

"Well, yes," Harry confessed. The eyebrow rose further. "If it wasn't for you, they wouldn't have said that Sirius was innocent."

Malfoy chuckled. "This means I'm supposed to say 'You're welcome', and then we shake hands or clap each other on the back in a manly fashion, right?"

"If you insist," Harry said, and put out his hand.

Malfoy studied him for a moment. "Yeah, I suppose so," he said finally, reached out his hand, and shook Harry's. "You're all right, Potter. But did you ever think of just putting your memories into a Pensieve and showing them to the Ministry?"

Harry let out of the hand that was currently shaking Malfoy's and slapped it to his forehead.

"I'm so stupid!" Harry moaned. "Why didn't I think of that before? And I've looked in a Pensieve before! Bloody hell..."

"You never look for the simple way out," Malfoy said. He sounded so serious that Harry jerked in surprise. "It's always the hard way for you, isn't it? You got on the Quidditch team, but you had to grab Longbottom's Rememberall first. You discovered the secret of the basilisk, but Granger was Petrified first. You learned about your godfather, but Weasley had his leg broken and Lupin got sacked. You won the Triwizard Tournament, but Diggory had to be killed. You destroyed whatever was in the Department of Mysteries that You-Know-Who was looking for, but Black had to die."

The words twisted into a fist, shoving itself into Harry's stomach. His mouth felt dry, and his throat filled up with guilt. Malfoy was right. He always did take the hard way out of things; and he always regretted the choices. And his rival had told him so.

"Erm, anyway..." Harry said, clearing his throat. "What does your mother think about you defending Sirius?"

Malfoy suddenly looked very glum. "She's in St. Mungo's, Potter. Lucius has been putting Memory Charms on her ever since I was born, and when she slipped down the stairs a couple of days ago, she hit her head hard enough to jerk some of the memories back. It was too much for her. She can't think, speak, eat, or do anything else properly."

"I'm sorry," Harry said automatically, but Malfoy shook his head.

"I don't need your pity, Potter. You of all people should know that pity doesn't do much of anything."

"Suppose so," Harry said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Where did you get that?"

"What, this?" Malfoy asked, touching his cheek. Harry nodded. "Lucius. I visited him in Azkaban with my mother, right after school ended. I turned sixteen in June, and he had hoped my mind had been changed about the Death Eater thing. It hadn't, and he wasn't pleased. He somehow managed to punch me with cuffed hands before an Auror Stunned him back into his cell."

"So...you don't want to become a Death Eater?"

Malfoy snorted. "Merlin, no. Becoming a Death Eater is like becoming a slave. I prefer to keep my freedom."

Before Harry could reply to this, Remus came up behind him. Malfoy turned to face the benches to allow them privacy.

"You are allowed to visit Sirius's home," Remus said, and Harry felt a spark of excitement light up in his chest. "But not until tomorrow. Dumbledore still has to put up more wards," Remus finished. Harry groaned.

"It's only one day," Remus said, smiling faintly. "You'll be fine. Either myself or Dumbledore will pick you up."

"One day," Harry repeated, aware that Malfoy was listening to every single word. He hoped Malfoy had been telling the truth about not wanting to become a Death Eater.

"Er--Draco?" Remus said, leaning over Harry's shoulder to look at Malfoy, who turned around.

"Yes?" Malfoy said, the trademark smirk on his face.

"Thank you," Remus said, reaching out a hand and clapping Malfoy on the shoulder. "Without you, they never would have--"

"Potter's already given me that," Malfoy interrupted swiftly. "I don't need to hear it twice."

Remus looked slightly hurt, but he recovered quickly.

"Very well." He turned to Harry. "We're leaving now, so I suggest you say your goodbyes to Ron and Hermione before going back to the Dursleys. I'm Apparating you back."

"All right," Harry answered, weight sinking in his stomach. He didn't want to say goodbye to his friends again.

"See you at school, then," Malfoy said, jerking his head.

"Same to you," Harry replied, turned on his heel, and walked towards Ron and Hermione.

* * *

A few minutes later, Harry was dropped off at Number Four, Privet Drive with a brief, one-armed hug from Remus, who had Disapparated the minute he let go. Order business, Harry decided.

He trudged into the house, still feeling light-headed over the fact that the Ministry had called Sirius innocent. Perhaps it had been a bit late--fifteen years, to be exact--but it had happened.

Harry opened the door to what was considered normal at the Dursley's home: Dudley sat in the kitchen, stuffing as much food as he could manage into his mouth; Aunt Petunia was looking out the window, trying to figure out what Mrs. Next Door was doing with Mr. Number Five; and, because he was nowhere to be seen, Uncle Vernon was at work.

"Would you do the dishes, please, Harry?" Aunt Petunia said without leaving her position at the window.

Harry nodded, dropped the backpack that had carried his extra clothing to Grimmauld Place the night before, and walked to the sink. He was soaping up a plate from what looked to be Dudley's breakfast when Uncle Vernon came down the stairs. He was muttering under his breath, but he stopped when he saw Harry.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry answered. He turned around to face his uncle.

Something very large and heavy was swung directly into Harry's face. He stumbled backwards, his fingers still clutching the soaped up sponge, until stars danced in front of his closed eyelids and he could remember no more.