The Man of the Moment

Chapter Twenty-Four: Justice, Thy Name Is Persephone

"You okay, Harry?" Persephone asked, in a very hoarse voice. Harry stared at her, and found himself pushing his mouth closed with his hand.

"Am I okay?" he almost laughed. "What about you?"

"Well, I'm still breathing," she replied, with a shrug. The rat in her grip squeaked, and bit down on her finger. She winced, and promptly smacked it against the desk, quelling its protestations.

"Is that Pettigrew?" Harry asked numbly, although unless silver paws had become a must-have fashion accessory for rodents, he already knew the answer.

"Well, I just had to get myself a souvenir, didn't I?" Persephone quipped, in a gurgling voice. She spat out a gobful of blood into a nearby mug, before putting two fingers into her mouth and pulling out a small, white object. Harry noticed that McGonagall shuddered at the action, although Snape appeared too busy pacing across the room to notice.

"Christ, Percy, how many of those have come loose?" Diane, the Brethren's resident Head Healer asked, as Persephone dropped the item into her hand.

"I dunno; you're the one who's been counting," Persephone retorted, gruffly. Diane frowned.

"Then I reckon this one makes seven," she commented. "You'd better sit down so I can put them back in- it gets harder once the gums heal up..."

"Let me do something with my new pet first!" Persephone pleaded, her eyes sparking with fury.

"Perce, you've been through hell. Leave Pettigrew a moment," Alex commanded, sharply.

"Percy, we need to treat you- stop worrying about that sodding rodent," Stephanie added, as she ran her wand along Persephone's hairline, small pink sparks spitting out into the air as she did so. Faith took that opportunity to run up to Persephone and latch herself around her waist like a particularly needy limpet.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, repeatedly. Persephone gingerly brought her free hand to Faith's head, and stroked her hair in a trembling motion.

"It's alright, sweetheart, I know," she soothed, as Faith began to cry. Gyaltsen walked up to them both, and bowed courteously.

"I am truly happy you are safe," he replied. Persephone smiled, and bowed in return, whist disentangling herself from Faith.

"Right back at you," she replied. Gyaltsen looked a little confused.

"I'm glad you are safe, too," she explained. Gyaltsen nodded in understanding.

"Do you need anything?" he asked. Persephone shook her head.

"No- you go. You shouldn't have been dragged into this, anyway," she said. Gyaltsen shrugged.

"In times of war, nobody is uninvolved," he replied, before bowing once more. "If you need anything..."

"I'll contact you, Gyaltsen," Persephone replied, before coughing loudly once more. Gyaltsen placed a tender hand on her shoulder, and then said goodbye to Harry, before exiting the room via McGonagall's fireplace.

Snape stopped wearing a hole in the carpet of McGonagall's office for a moment, and snapped his fingers, at which Faith jumped and ran off to McGonagall's desk.

"Give him to me," he ordered, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, Persephone handed him the rat, which Snape grabbed by the neck, before pointing his wand at it.

"Integumentum extermino!" he announced, through gritted teeth, and through the blast of bluish light, the struggling form of Peter Pettigrew could be seen emerging from the shape of the rat. Before Wormtail could so much as take a breath, Snape had cast another spell, and pinned him to the wall with ease.

"At last," he whispered, menacingly. "At last."

Wormtail looked pleadingly around the room which, judging from the cold glint in Snape's eye, didn't surprise Harry in the slightest.

"S...Severus," Wormtail pleaded, with a leering smile that was presumably supposed to be winsome. "If th... this is about school... We were just kids..."

"Oh, but this is about so much more," Snape hissed, and his whole reaction suddenly struck Harry like a thunderbolt. Wormtail had now been seen alive; Snape couldn't deny that Sirius had been innocent now. He also couldn't deny that it was Wormtail- not Sirius- that had caused the first death of his only daughter.

"What are you staring at, Potter?" Snape barked, jolting Harry out of his thoughts.

"I was just..." Harry didn't get a chance to finish his explanation; which was just as well, for he didn't really know what he was going to say. Snape clicked his fingers.

"Go and help Persephone," he ordered. "Make sure she keeps looking up at that wall."

Harry shrugged, and turned his back on Snape, only to see Persephone's damp back as she leant against the back of her chair. At first, he had thought it was just sweat, but on closer inspection, he could see blood mingled in her robes. What had Voldemort done to her?

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek cut through the air, causing Harry to jump. Other members of the congregation were also clearly shocked by the noise as well.

"Severus!" McGonagall yelled, in a manner Harry had never heard her use before. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Snape replied, brusquely, as he hovered over a cowering Wormtail. Harry couldn't tell what he had been doing, but judging by the look on McGonagall, Diane and Stephanie's faces, it hadn't involved a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit. Only Alex remained impassive, and Persephone had her back to the entire proceedings.

"Severus; I want him alive, and I want him talking," she said, without turning around. Snape loosened his grip on Wormtail almost instinctively at her words.

"Why? What possible good can he do?" he asked.

"He's the key to getting Black pardoned," Persephone replied, and Harry felt sure he saw Snape's shoulders tense at her words.

"Black is dead," he replied, simply. "Like I said- what possible good can he do?"

Harry felt an almost overwhelming urge to punch Snape for his casual dismissal of Sirius, but Persephone spoke up before he could consider acting on his impulses.

"I owe him," she said. "I want him pardoned. I want Pettigrew alive, and I want him talking." The response was not a request. Snape sighed in irritation, but he complied with Persephone's demands. Wormtail was palpably relieved as Snape walked away, but Harry saw this relief change to consternation as Wormtail discovered he was unable to move away from the wall. Presumably Snape had hexed him to it, so much so that he couldn't even transform back into a rat.

Suddenly, Augustine rushed into the office, his once neatly coiffed hair a complete mess, and hanging loose down his back.

"Percy!" he gasped. "You're alright?"

Diane exhaled sharply.

"I wouldn't use those words myself," she replied, darkly.

Persephone whirled around in her chair, and promptly winced as she did so.

"I'm fine," she said, carefully. Harry then noticed that Augustine was carrying something in a large cloth sack, and his hands were trembling. He emptied the item out onto Persephone's lap, and she beamed.

"My sword!" she exclaimed. "I thought I'd lost it in the escape..."

"I imagine you did," Augustine replied. "I found it outside. I assumed you'd either got back or... Well, I didn't really wish to consider the 'or'."

Persephone frowned at him.

"That was dangerous for you to carry," she said. Augustine shrugged.

"It won't kill me again. I'll be alright..."

Stephanie roughly grabbed one of his trembling hands and studied it, tutting as she did so.

"You've got some nasty burns there- what in Merlin's name possessed you to pick up a blessed sword?"

Augustine shrugged.

"It will heal; besides, I used a cloth," he replied, before edging closer to Stephanie. "How is Persephone?" he asked, in a low whisper. Stephanie looked concerned.

"She isn't half as good as she claims, Augustine," she replied, quietly. "She's sustained some terrible injuries. Mainly physical; broken ribs, dislocated fingers, a fractured leg, many cuts and bruises, a number of teeth that appear to have been yanked out with some kind of Wrenching hex. She's got an excess of Veritaserum in her system too- thank Merlin for the fact that Alex introduced the notion of building up resistance to it, otherwise she'd be dead. Presumably, Voldemort's been trying to get her to talk. There's some evidence of attempted use of the Imperius curse, and also of the Cruciatus curse- some of the blood vessels on her brain have swollen, but Diane's taking care of them as we speak..."

Harry looked across at where the Head Healer of the Brethren was swiftly and efficiently pressing her wand to various points of Persephone's head, and scolding her sharply whenever she attempted to move. He gulped involuntarily. Was that what had happened to the Longbottoms? Had Persephone nearly ended up committed to St. Mungo's too?

Augustine appeared to shudder, despite having had no real homeostatic functions for the past five hundred years.

"Will she be... will her mind be as it was?" he asked, nervously. Stephanie nodded.

"Thanks to Diane, she'll have suffered no long-term mental damage. There's likely to be a few psychological effects, but nothing major," she confirmed. Augustine shook his head.

"What on Earth did he do to her?" he asked, though evidently not expecting a response. Stephanie appeared to surprise him on this account.

"I presume he tried Legilmency to little effect, and then stepped up the methods; Veritaserum, Imperius and when those didn't work, physical torture and finally, mental torture with Cruciatus and Merlin knows what else- she kept muttering some French carol the first five minutes she was here..."

"Why?"

"I reckon it was one of Alex's tricks- you know, concentrate on one specific concept so hard, nobody will be able to wrench anything else from your mind. I'm guessing Voldemort now knows all the words to 'Frère Jacques', but I doubt he extracted anything particularly useful, if Persephone's condition is any indicator."

Augustine nodded.

"I dispatched of a couple of Death Eaters that deigned to go near the grounds- presumably they've called off the search for her now..."

Harry's attention was distracted momentarily by what he thought was a pale yellow light glowing in his peripheral vision. He turned around, to see Wormtail looked at him, whilst trying to slide his wand surreptitiously up the sleeve of his robes. Harry felt a surge of anger flow through him- not for the first time, he wished he had just let Sirius kill Wormtail all those years ago. It would have saved him a lot of trouble.

"What are you doing?" Harry spat, furiously, as he stepped closer to Wormtail.

"N... nothing, Harry," Wormtail stammered, fearfully looking around as though he were trapped quarry.

"What are you doing?" Harry repeated, standing so close to Wormtail now, that he could smell his breath. It was not pleasant.

Suddenly, Wormtail wrenched his silvery right hand free of the invisible bonds Snape had hexed him with, and Harry gasped for breath as it shot out and grabbed him hard around the throat. He choked loudly, and looked around. Nobody seemed to have even noticed!

"A clever little concealment curse, isn't it?" Wormtail gloated, eyeing Harry with an almost desperate hunger. "It masks whatever you desire from the eyes of others. I'll be able to do the Dark Lord's bidding right under their noses!"

He squeezed harder around Harry's neck, and he felt a sudden rush of blood pulse through his head.

"What about my father? You said you were scared into betraying him," Harry wheezed, trying urgently to escape. Somehow, he couldn't help but think it would be rather ironic if he died with a variety of Order and Brethren members looking on, not knowing or seeing what was happening.

"What about doing the right thing? You don't have to be Voldemort's servant- you can put it right..."

Wormtail winced at the name.

"It's far too late for that. I can never go back- not now," he replied, as his arm began to shake; either from the effort, or his own resolve. Harry really wasn't entirely sure. Plus, he was beginning to lose the ability to focus on anything, even with his glasses on.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a blurry shape he thought might be Alex look in their direction. As his vision cleared a little, he noticed her gasp, and then run forward, drawing a heavy-duty sword from her scabbard as she did so.

"Nice try, Pettigrew," she snarled, "but that spell doesn't conceal one's vision if they don't have real eyes. Now, if you won't let him go, I'll just have to make you." Her sword rested threateningly on Wormtail's silver hand. He loosened his grip ever so slightly on Harry's neck, and eyed her nervously.

"Y...you... th.. that sword won't c...cut through this hand," Wormtail stammered, as he attempted to point to his silvery hand, and then gave up and simply stared at it. Alex smiled humourlessly, and with a swish of her sword, Wormtail was separated from his arm, and Harry was left with a silvery hand stuck around his neck.

"True- but it will cut through the bone of your arm," Alex replied, though her words were smothered somewhat by Wormtail's shrieks.

"Finite incantatem!" she yelled, and all of a sudden, the rest of the congregation turned around, and looked horrified. Harry, however, was too busy trying to pull Wormtail's silver hand away from his neck to notice.

"Erm, can someone help me get rid of this?" he asked, pointing at the offending hand. Not only was the silver monstrosity rather uncomfortable, it was downright distressing to see a dismembered hand stuck to your own body, especially when half of the forearm was still attached, and oozing blood. Augustine rushed over and began to rub some sort of ointment onto Harry's neck. The hand slid away with ease.

"Wow, thanks, Augustine- what did you use?" Harry asked. Augustine shrugged.

"Lard," he replied, setting the hand down on the mantelpiece over the fireplace. Harry wondered why in Merlin's name Augustine would feel the need to carry lard around with him, until he chanced a look at that neatly coiffed blonde hair. Augustine clearly noticed, for he looked at Harry and said, "I don't trust these new-fangled gels. Lard worked for me in the seventeenth century, and it works just as well now!"

Harry nodded and smiled in what he hoped was an agreeable way, before mutely voting never to get too close to Augustine's crowning glory.

Meanwhile, Faith was watching the whole debacle with some interest, and had soon wandered over to inspect Wormtail's silver hand.

"Faith, put that hand down this instant! You don't know where it's been!" Persephone ordered, as though she was the mother to a disobedient child. Faith guiltily placed Wormtail's hand back on the mantelpiece.

"I was only having a look," she protested.

Persephone, meanwhile, had got up out of her chair, dragged it over to where Wormtail was shrieking and leant on it, staring him out with a crooked, malicious smile on her face. Harry was startled at how much she reminded him of Snape in that one, brief moment.

"Well, well, well- if it isn't 'One-Armed' Pete," Persephone drawled, sarcastically. Wormtail clutched the stump of his right hand defensively with his left.

"I... I don't kn... know what you're ta... talking about!" he exclaimed, nervously. Persephone said nothing in reply, and merely looked pointedly at where Wormtail was holding the remains of his right arm.

"Dextera; Signo!" she announced, and Wormtail gingerly released the pressure on his arm.

"Oh... th... thank you, miss. I certainly...." Wormtail's platitudes quickly ceased upon him making eye contact with Persephone. Harry was shocked, to say the least- her expression was one of pure hatred. Her eyes glittered with malice, though the rest of her face was fairly impassive.

"I want you in a lucid state," she replied, darkly, as she slowly turned to face McGonagall.

"Is there any chance of getting Arthur to have a few words with Amelia Bones?" she asked. "I'd like to sort things out as soon as possible."

"Sort things out?" Wormtail asked. Persephone looked askance at him.

"Yes, for your trial," she replied simply, and Harry saw Wormtail turn three shades paler upon hearing her reply.

"Bu... but, that was such a long time ago- sixteen years? What possible good can come from dragging up such an awful situation after sixteen years? What of poor Harry?" Wormtail looked beseechingly at Harry as this point. "Hasn't he been through enough?"

Persephone turned her head towards Harry, then shifted her glance to Wormtail with a blink of her eyes. Her expression was one of disdain.

"All the more reason you should be tried. Be a man for once; accept the right of a dead man to a posthumous pardon," she replied, smoothly.

"I... I won't say anything without a lawyer!" Wormtail protested. Persephone flashed him one of her lop-sided smiles, though her face registered disgust.

"Fine, but you won't find a lawyer in the land that can counter the evidence I've accrued," she replied.

"We'll see," Wormtail muttered under his breath.

"Has anyone found Lupin?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering the plight he was aware Lupin was facing at the hands of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He wouldn't put it past Snape to have conveniently kept quiet about the whole affair. "I think he was at Voldemort's hide-out. I heard Nott say something about keeping him..."

"Don't worry, Harry," Alex replied. "Benjamin took one of our units along- they're going to try and retrieve him. Last I heard, they'd found the area, and were scouting to find out where he was."

Harry nodded politely, but he felt his insides turn leaden with worry. Persephone had come close to resembling a basket-case already; Lupin had been in Voldemort's clutches a lot longer.

Persephone had evidently noticed the look on Harry's face, for she managed a brief smile.

"Relax, Harry- he'll be fine. Voldemort didn't sort him out personally- got some lackey to do it; I'd be surprised if he isn't running rings around them as we speak. Apparently," she added sarcastically, "he's not as important as I am..." She coughed noisily and then choked on a short burst of laughter. She conjured a small metal dish and spat into it.

"What did Voldemort find out about Severus?" McGonagall asked, suddenly. Persephone rolled her eyes.

"I've told you about a thousand times- nothing. He didn't find out a thing, which is why I look like I've been to Hell and back, with a pit stop in a bullfighting arena," she replied, and Harry presumed that McGonagall had been springing such questions on her for a while, in an attempt to catch her out into telling a truth she was already giving out freely.

"I'm just checking- after everything that happened to you, I wouldn't be surprised if you are having difficulty recalling all your experiences tonight," McGonagall explained. Diane placed a hand on McGonagall's arm.

"Really- she could have been much worse," she soothed. "She's fully compos mentis, don't you worry. Plus, if there's one thing Persephone is good at, then it's keeping schtoom."

"There was one thing that was bothering me though, Severus," Persephone continued, and Snape strode over to her side. He placed a hand carefully on her shoulder.

"What?" he asked, his expression stern, but with something Harry couldn't identify swimming near the surface.

"He kept asking me about the Original Cross, too. I don't get it- what in Merlin's name was that supposed to mean?" she pondered. Snape scratched his head for a moment, then shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied. "I really don't know..."

Suddenly, Harry had a brainwave. He recalled hearing that phrase somewhere before.

"You must know," Harry said to Snape, causing the latter's eyebrows to arch in indignation.

"What, pray tell, are you blathering on about this time, Potter," he spat, angrily, but Harry paid little attention to his mood.

"You asked Alex about it, years ago, when you were a proper Death Eater." The congregation appeared exquisitely uncomfortable at this reminder, but Harry didn't care. "You asked her what she knew about the Original Cross, and Alex didn't have a clue, but you seemed to think she should, because of her pendant..." He trailed off at Snape's horrified expression.

"How do you know this, Potter?" he asked, in a voice far too calm to be sane. "Alexandra; did you tell him?"

Alex shook her head.

"Of course I didn't- I've barely told Persephone the details," she pointed out, at which Snape directed his glare at his daughter.

"Look," she replied, in an equally irritated voice, "I know very little about what went on between you two on that day, and even so, I feel I know too much. Whatever you pair get up to, or got up to, I never want to hear about it."

The fireplace flashed green, and Mad-Eye Moody appeared in the flames. He stepped out of the fire with a clunk of his wooden leg, before brushing himself off. Kingsley Shacklebolt followed soon after, and exited the fireplace in a distinctly more elegant fashion.

"Arthur's had a few words with Amelia- there's a trial sorted for two hours time. Were here to collect Pettigrew," Moody explained, gruffly.

"He's over there," Persephone stated, jabbing her thumb in the direction of a quivering Wormtail. Moody cast a quick spell that chained Wormtail's arm and leg to his own, then Shacklebolt did the same, trapping Wormtail between them both.

"You have a right to contact a lawyer within the next hour from your holding cell in the Ministry, which will be closely monitored. You may make only one Floo Call, and your trial will commence at 05:00 hours, so I'd make sure your lawyer Apparates over as soon as possible," Shacklebolt explained, tersely. Wormtail merely nodded.

"So, how did you find out about the Original Cross malarkey, Harry?" Persephone asked, apparently ignoring the majority of Wormtail's transferral into the hands of the Ministry. Harry shrugged.

"I was in McGonagall's office, ages ago," he admitted. "I just happened to see a pensieve reproduction lying about on her desk..." Harry's attempt to play down his efforts in gaining such information had, sadly, not fooled Alex, who looked beyond furious.

"So, you looked through my psychiatric reports?" she asked, in a tone of voice Harry felt he might shrink at. Instead, he straightened his back, and looked her in the eyes.

"It was an accident," he protested. "I didn't realise they were..."

"You accidentally looked through my psychiatric reports?" she practically screamed. Harry blanched.

"I honestly didn't mean to- they were just there..."

Alex gnashed her teeth, and Harry thought she looked ready to rip him limb from limb. Persephone attempted to grab Alex by the shoulders, but as she could hardly stand up, Augustine took over. He gently pulled her away from Harry and restrained her.

"Calm down, Alex, it hasn't done any harm," he soothed. Alex did not look remotely satiated by his words.

"I'll kill him!" she seethed. "I don't care if he's 'The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord', I'm going to box his effing ears in!"

Moody raised his hand, and the effort jerked the attached Wormtail up into the air a little.

"Much as I respect your efforts, Alexandra," he said, "and you have been doing a pretty good job- I'm a little bit concerned by this 'psychiatric reports' business, and the fact I don't recall you having mentioned them..."

"Minerva knew," Alex replied, frostily. "I'm sure she'll volunteer all the information you could possibly desire, if you really want to check out my entire background. Anyway," she spat, "you try being kidnapped by Death Eaters at fifteen and persuading your Headmistress that you don't need to see a head doctor- believe me, I attempted it; it didn't work," she retorted. McGonagall looked concerned.

"Alex, it really doesn't matter. We understand completely; don't we," she said, glaring at each member of the room. If she had said any words to back up her unspoken threat, it would have ruined the whole effect. Moody coughed.

"Of course, it's not important," he said, in what sounded to Harry like a forced voice.

"I'm not a nut job," Alex insisted. "It was post-traumatic stress counselling, or something," she replied. Moody appeared a little relieved at this admission.

"I just don't like the idea of such things being secret from each other," he pointed out, sternly. "Voldemort has a habit of playing people against each other- we can't afford to be hoodwinked, especially now."

"That's a fair comment," Alex replied, as Snape knelt down next to Persephone.

"About that night- I know I didn't explain everything about how Alexandra..." His explanation died out upon Persephone hushing him.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again- what went on between you two, and what's going on now; I already know too much," she interrupted crossly.

Kingsley looked around the room, evidently trying to fix his gaze upon any object that was unlikely to say anything that could negatively impact upon the atmosphere any further.

"We'd better get to the Ministry soon. Harry- you'll need to testify against Pettigrew," he pointed out.

"Okay," Harry replied, gulping away a dry throat. Testify? He didn't even know what to say!

"All you need to do is tell your story of what happened that night you, Ron and Hermione found Sirius in the Shrieking Shack," McGonagall explained, in a soothing voice. "In fact, we'd better get Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger down here, too..."

"Will you be alright to stand up in court?" Snape asked Persephone, who nodded.

"I can still talk," she replied, as she tried to get up. Snape quickly offered his arm, which Persephone held onto gratefully.

"Thanks," she replied. Diane reached over to her large bag, and tapped it with her wand. What looked like a wheelchair- except instead of wheels, it had two odd putty-like caterpillar tracks- floated out of it and unfolded before Harry's eyes. Persephone eyes the object with distaste.

"You're expecting me to sit in that?" she asked, incredulously. Diane nodded.

"You're not ready for crutches yet, Percy," Stephanie pointed out. "You need to rest up. This thing'll float up and down staircases no problem. Plus, you just need to tap it with your wand to change speed and direction."

Diane nodded.

"So shut up, and put up. Seeing as you're fool enough to want to start this trial now..."

"The sooner I pay my debt to Black, the better I'll feel," Persephone interrupted. "I don't like to owe people."

"Unless it's a few rounds at the Leaky Cauldron," Alex quipped. Persephone made a show of laughing falsely, before tapping her wheelchair with her right hand, and moving off towards the exit of McGonagall's office.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur to Harry. He recalled waking up a startled Ron and telling him to get dressed, whilst informing him that no, Voldemort hadn't tried to attack the school and yes, to the best of his knowledge, Hermione was fine. Alex had retrieved Hermione, and a quick Floo ride later had found them squashed inside a familiar red telephone box, with McGonagall informing the telephone that they were all here for the trial of Peter Pettigrew, and the telephone box promptly filled up with visitor badges. Harry had glanced at the badge Ron pinned to his chest, and upon seeing the words 'Ronald Weasley: Trial 640, Pettigrew' decided he could hazard a guess as to what his own badge said.

"I hope we do manage to pardon Sirius," Hermione said, through a big yawn, as they walked along the Atrium towards the security guard in the corner, passing the Fountain of Magical Brethren- which Harry noticed had not been repaired since that battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters nearly two years ago.

"So do I," Harry whispered back, still staring at the damaged fountain. "He deserves that small mercy, at least."

Ron patted them both gently on the back.

"It'll all work out," he replied cheerfully, although Harry could tell that it was enforced for their benefit.

A faint whirring sound indicated to Harry that Persephone was close behind him; another skidding sound indicated that she was attempting to perform wheel-spins across the hall.

"Cut it out, Perce; those things aren't designed for extreme sports," Alex scolded, wearily. Persephone managed a hoarse chuckle.

"Oh, come on! These polished floors? Perfect! Anyway, I reckon you could do with one of these," she replied, as Harry turned around and saw Alex lean her entire body weight against Persephone's wheelchair. Alex exhaled loudly, and her already rounded stomach protruded even further with the effort.

"Aye, too bloody right," she replied, yawning, before catching Harry's glance with a swivel of her electric blue eyes.

"You alright, kidda?" she asked. Harry nodded, having not forgotten she was close to punching his lights out not too long ago.

"Listen- forget about earlier," she insisted. "I'm bloody annoyed with you for rifling through my private files, but I doubt you're the only one to do it, considering they were strewn across Minerva's desk."

"Okay," Harry replied, unsure of exactly the right words to use in this situation. "I really didn't mean to... they were just sort of, there," he finished, lamely. Alex smiled.

"Yeah, well- looks like it's a habit with you two, anyway," she said, glancing sideways at Persephone, who grinned the best she could considering half of her mouth was heavily swollen. Harry couldn't help but blanch- she did look a terrible sight.

They reached the security guard, and Harry saw McGonagall pass through, whilst Snape handed over his two wands, which appeared to confuse the guard momentarily.

"They're both the same!" he exclaimed. Snape raised one eyebrow.

"Indeed they are," he replied, before snatching them both out of the guard's relaxed grip and stalking off. Alex smiled sympathetically at the guard.

"Here; mine are both the same too," she replied, handing over her two wands. The guard weighed them, ripped off a piece of paper and glanced up at Alex, not quite meeting her gaze.

"Nine inches, mahogany, Demiguise hair core- one in use twenty three years, one in use for eighteen years?"

"That's correct," Alex replied, as the guard handed her two wands back to her. She pocketed them, and waited for Harry, Ron Hermione and Persephone to go through. Harry consciously flattened down his hair over his forehead, but it did little good.

"Here; Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, six and a half years of use? I remember you when it was just four years!" the guard exclaimed, and Harry suddenly remembered Arthur Weasley refer to him as Eric when he attended Harry's hearing just two and a half years ago.

"Come on, we haven't got all day!" Persephone grunted from behind him. Harry heard her give another hacking cough, and spit something out into a bowl once again.

"Alright," the guard retorted, as Persephone glided forward. "Keep your hair... Merlin's beard- what happened to you, love?" he exclaimed, upon seeing Persephone. She looked at him darkly.

"Altercation with a door jamb," she replied, before tossing her wand onto his desk. He looked at her sharply, before placing her wand on the brass dish of his apparatus and watching it vibrate.

"Thirteen and a half inches, Holly, Manticore-hair core, been in use..."

"Eighteen years, yes," Persephone interrupted. Eric scratched his head.

"How old are you, love?" he asked, accusatorily. Persephone sighed.

"Twenty-three. My family have a tradition of receiving our first wands on our fifth birthday. A friend of the family makes them exclusively for us," she explained. Eric frowned.

"That's just like the rangy fellow ahead of you- you've even got the same wand core..."

"And the same nose," Persephone quipped. "Fascinating, isn't it?" she added, before grabbing back her wand and gliding of along the corridor. Harry offered a weak smile to the perplexed looking Eric, before following the others through the golden gates and into one of the lifts. As it was around half four in the morning, there were no other witches or wizards around, and they had the lift to themselves.

"What's going to happen in this trial?" Hermione asked, nervously. "Will we have to speak in front of the court?"

"I'd imagine so," Persephone replied.

"But there's only us as witnesses!" Harry exclaimed. "Who's going to believe what we've got to say?"

"Relax, H," Persephone interrupted. "There are even more eye-witnesses waiting for us- besides; we've got Anya on our side."

"Anya?" Harry, Ron and Hermione chorused. Persephone nodded, though the action looked a little difficult for her.

"Anya Bhajitir. She's our top lawyer, is Anya. Not only did she prevent me from getting charged for breaking into Azkaban, she got me financial compensation for the 'effects' of the trial. Trust me, if anybody can swing this for us, it'll be Anya."

Alex nodded.

"She's been working on Faith's appeal- it's looking like she's going to be exonerated by the Ministry. Admittedly, that's not without help from your old man, Ron," she added, glancing across at a concerned looking Ron.

"What will we have to say?" he asked. McGonagall smiled.

"All you need do is tell the truth, Mr. Weasley," she replied. "Stick to the facts, and answer everything as precisely as possible. Nobody can ask any more from you."

"Yes, they can," Snape commented, icily, as he stared at the reflective surface of the lift, which Harry noticed allowed him a clear view of Persephone, who appeared to have stopped coughing up blood for the moment.

"Well, that all depends upon who Pettigrew's got as a defence lawyer," Persephone replied. "Even so, I wouldn't worry too much- Anya's very good, and it's a little difficult to argue with cold, hard facts..."

"What about Miss Hamilton?" Snape countered. "The Malleable Statue curse is a cold hard fact, and what happened to her?"

"Oh, don't be so negative!" Persephone snapped, and the action made Snape jump slightly. "Anya hadn't trained in wizard law then- she was still getting work experience in an old Muggle firm up in Solihull. Besides, that was fixed anyway- you know what Malfoy's like. There was no way Macnair was going down..."

The lift ground to a stop, and they piled out of the lift, walked briskly along the bare corridor, and descended a set of steps down to the dungeons of the old courtrooms.

"We're in Courtroom Ten," Persephone announced, as she glided along the corridor in her magical wheelchair.

"I was in there," Harry pointed out. "When I got tried for using Underage Magic."

"That seems a bit excessive," Persephone commented.

"Well, I've always thought the Ministry Law Enforcers were a load of old fools," a cool female voice replied from somewhere out of view. Harry whirled around and came face to face with a slim, neatly dressed woman in pinstriped robes and a matching knee-length skirt. Her dark hair was cut into a bobbed style, and Harry could see tiny flecks of grey hair that glistened under the harsh lighting when the woman turned to face him. She held out her hand.

"Anya Bhajitir," she announced, loftily. Harry shook her hand.

"Erm, Harry Potter," he replied. "We're here for the trial of Wormtail... I mean, Peter Pettigrew."

"Excellent!" She rubbed her hands together. "So am I. I'm the prosecution lawyer."

"Glad you could make it, Anya," Persephone said, gliding over to where Anya was standing. The dark-haired lawyer looked horrified upon spotting Persephone.

"Christ, Perce, what happened to you? You look terrible!" she exclaimed, running her hand gently over Persephone's hair and face. Persephone smiled grimly.

"Voldemort- I'm sure there was a memo," she replied, blithely. Anya looked at her.

"You know what I mean. How did you get out alive?" she asked. Persephone shrugged.

"Saw a chance and took it. It was a bit messy though- too much bloodshed for my liking..."

"So I see," Anya quipped, looking Persephone up and down, critically assessing her injuries.

"Relax; it could have been worse," Persephone added, before her hacking cough started up again. Snape swiftly stepped over to try and assist her, but was brushed off with a terse, "I don't need any help with coughing, thank you!"

"Hi, Anya- everything set?" Alex asked. Anya nodded, without looking up.

"We're ready to rock and roll, Alex. I've got all of Persephone's case files here; I've got an order of witnesses... Christ, you're looking huge!" she suddenly blustered, upon looking up at Alex.

"You really know how to make a girl feel good," Alex replied, sarcastically. Anya gently slapped her on the arm.

"You know what I mean. When's it due again?"

"They're due in September," Alex replied. Anya's eyebrows raised a good inch higher.

"Twins? Well, rather you that me," she replied.

"You've not met Severus, have you?" Alex asked, whilst taking Snape's hand and guiding him in the direction of Anya.

"No, I haven't," Anya replied, surveying Snape with a look of distain matched only by Snape's cold glare at her. Clearly it wasn't just the Order that were unhappy about Alex and Snape's marriage; Anya looked as though she would happily rip Snape's head from his shoulders, given half a chance.

"Alright?" she offered by way of a greeting, though her tone was frosty. Snape merely nodded in reply.

Harry felt somebody nudge him hard in the ribs.

"Well, this is heart-warming, isn't it?" Fred joked, glancing pointedly across as Snape and Anya, whilst George tried not to laugh.

"Fred, George- what are you two doing here?" Harry asked. George smiled grimly.

"We're here to give evidence, aren't we? About the Marauder's Map, mind. All we have to do is say our piece about where we found it, and what it did," he explained. Fred nodded.

"Yeah- shouldn't be too long. I reckon most of the eyewitness accounts lie on your shoulders. Well, you, Hermione and our Lothario," he said, laughing. Harry was puzzled.

"Me, Hermione and who?" he asked. Fred and George looked at each other, then sniggered.

"Oh come on, who do you think?" Fred replied, pointing to where Ron was holding the hands of a panic-stricken Hermione and whispering words to her that Harry couldn't hear from this distance. Harry looked at Fred and George, and felt thoroughly confused.

"So?" he asked. "They're friends. That's what friends do. That's what I'd do if Hermione looked that worried and I was where Ron is now."

Fred and George looked at each other, their eyebrows raised.

"Wow; you three really are close!" Fred quipped. Harry thought about this statement for a short while, then suddenly felt his cheeks burn red.

"Behave, Fred," George chided. "Look at him- he's the colour of a Stunning Hex. Rather the same colour you go if I ever mention Persephone to you."

"Oh, har, har," Fred replied, and Harry noticed his complexion had not changed in the slightest.

"Alright, lads- ready for the hearing? You ought to be up in about half an hour, I think," Persephone said, as she glided over to them. Fred and George simultaneously gawped at her as she stopped near them.

"Bloody hell," Fred managed. "I heard what happened, but I didn't realise it was..."

"Quite this serious," George interrupted, tactfully. Persephone smiled.

"It's alright, George- I know I look a sight," she replied, breezily, before spitting out yet another gobful of something unpleasant.

"Are you going to be alright?" Fred asked. Persephone nodded, before reaching gingerly across her body to scratch her right arm with her left hand.

"Yeah- I'll heal," she replied. "I'm going to be out of action for a few weeks, though."

"Won't you be teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts, then?" Harry found himself asking, before he quickly realised that it was possibly the most stupid question he had ever asked in his entire life.

"Well, not for the rest of this term," Persephone replied, with a grim smile. "Don't worry, though- I'm getting a supply teacher sorted out for the duration."

"So, there's no permanent damage?" George asked. Persephone shook her head.

"Nope- all healable, apparently," she responded. Fred looked at her.

"You were lucky," he added.

"I know I was, Fred," Persephone pointed out. Fred suddenly looked at Persephone suspiciously.

"How come you can tell us apart?" he asked. "Even our old mum has difficulty."

Persephone tapped the side of her nose and winked.

"Ah, well- it's all the spying and observation work," she explained. "I'm just trained to spot little differences that most people don't notice. For a start; you've got a small scar above your left eyebrow that George doesn't have."

Fred grinned.

"Does that make me more ruggedly handsome, then?" he asked. Persephone looked at him and smiled.

"Now, if I told you, that'd just take the fun of guessing away from you," she teased, before tapping the armrest on her wheelchair and gliding off to converse with Anya, who had been watching the entire exchange with some amusement.

Harry couldn't help but notice the bright pink patches of colour that suddenly appeared on Fred's cheeks. Apparently, neither could George.

"You know, the family resemblance between her and her old man are striking," George commented.

"Shut up," Fred replied.

"I'm surprised nobody has realised they're related just from looking at them..."

"Shut up."

"In fact, she's almost the spitting image of her father..."

"Shut up."

"...Except she's got Harry's eyes."

Fred looked aghast.

"Shut up!" he reiterated, the flush of his cheeks having quite dissipated.

Suddenly, the heavy doors to Courtroom Ten swung open, and Harry was ushered into the room. He recognised the interior even more than he recognised the corridor they had travelled down- not only was he tried- and cleared- here, but Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Junior had been tried here, too. So had Karkaroff- except he had managed to cut a deal with the Ministry...

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Persephone hissed. "I don't believe it!"

"Relax, Percy- I can take him," Anya replied, soothingly. Harry looked across in the direction Persephone and Anya were, and saw to his utter surprise, that Karkaroff was sitting next to Peter Pettigrew, fiddling with a sheaf of papers.

"Karkaroff!" Harry exclaimed, albeit in a whisper. "What's he doing here?"

"I was about to ask the same question," Ron replied, as they sat down opposite the Wizengamot, who were currently filing into the courtroom. Hermione looked a little ashen.

"It wasn't much of a surprise, really," she said, sadly. Ron looked sharply at her.

"What do you mean, it wasn't much of a surprise?" he asked.

"Viktor told me about Karkaroff. He used to be a member of the Law Enforcement Committee in Denmark before he became Headmaster of Durmstrang. That was one of the reasons Voldemort wanted to recruit him," she explained. Ron looked thoroughly annoyed.

"I'm surprised you and Viktor have time to discuss such things when you see each other," he snapped. Hermione looked torn between abject fury and bursting into tears.

"Ron! How dare you!" she demanded, and Harry saw Ron's sullen face melt away into something resembling guilt.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he babbled. "I didn't mean.... Well, I did, but I didn't really, if you get my drift..."

"Funnily enough; no, I don't," Hermione hissed back, folding her arms crossly. Ron looked beseechingly at her.

"I'm just... I don't want... I don't like... Oh, forget it- I'm sorry, okay? I'm really, really sorry. I was rude. So, why do you think Karkaroff has come out of hiding to defend Wormtail, of all people?" he asked, quickly changing the subject. Hermione coughed a little, but appeared to have calmed down.

"I think Pettigrew knows a few things about Karkaroff that could damage both his career and his flight from Voldemort," Persephone whispered. "Presumably, Pettigrew was able to twist his arm into defending him, in return for his silence. Crafty bugger. Anyway- good luck, guys, we'll see you in a bit," she said, before her and Anya made their way to the prosecution stand, which was adjacent to the defendant stand. The empty Law Enforcer seat was between the two stands, and a lot higher up.

Madame Bones swept into the courtroom, and took her place in the Law Enforcer seat, adjusting her monocle as she sat down, and quickly skimming through a few sheets of paper in front of her. She cleared her throat, and the courtroom fell silent.

"All rise!" she announced, and the congregation obeyed, jumping up to their feet. Madam Bones looked across at the front bench, where Arthur Weasley was standing, and coughed quietly. Arthur promptly pulled out a scroll of parchment and cleared his throat before beginning to read from it.

"Appeal and Disciplinary hearing on the fourth of March into the mass murder of thirteen Muggles with a single curse in 1981 originally attributed to Sirius Black, and the subsequent charging of Peter Pettigrew with the same offences. Interrogators: Arthur Weasley, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Daniel John Callahan, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Jessica Bushnell. Prosecution, Persephone Beauchamp. Witness for the Prosecution, Anya Bahjitir. Defendant, Peter Pettigrew. Witness for the Defendant, Igor Karkaroff."

Madam Bones nodded, and the entire congregation, including the fifty-odd members of the Wizengamot, sat down in unison. Arthur Weasley and Wormtail remained standing.

"Peter Pettigrew, you are being charged with the murder of thirteen Muggles with a single curse during October 1981.You are also being charged with falsifying evidence that led to the incarceration of Sirius Black for these crimes, and for obtaining illegal Animagus status. Do you understand these charges?"

Peter nodded.

"I do."

"How do you plead?" Arthur enquired. Wormtail looked across at Karkaroff, who simply nodded once.

"Not guilty," he announced, and Harry heard Hermione gasp next to him.

"How can he say that?" she hissed. "Of course he's guilty- we've got enough proof and eyewitness accounts to counter that five times over!"

"I reckon Karkaroff's up to something- did you see the way Wormtail looked at him for confirmation?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. He wasn't sure what Karkaroff had up his sleeve, but if his and Persephone's animosity was anything to go by, Harry doubted it would be particularly gentle to the Prosecution. He rubbed his head; another mild pain had taken residence up there, and it was starting to bug Harry. Arthur looked towards Madam Bones, and sat down. Madam Bones motioned for Wormtail to sit down, which he did. Harry noticed that Wormtail was trembling slightly.

"Calling the Prosecution!" Madam Bones announced, and Persephone stood up, aided by two crutches and by resting against the stand. Concerned murmurs echoed through the room.

"Can you confirm your name, please- are you Professor Persephone Beauchamp?"

"That is correct," Persephone replied.

"Please begin your opening statement, Professor," she asked. Persephone nodded, before meeting Karkaroff's eyes. Madam Bones noticed this.

"Do you wish to declare a knowledge of the Witness for the Defence?" she asked. Persephone nodded.

"I ought to, really," she replied.

"Yes, you ought to," Madame Bones replied. "Would you describe the Witness for the Defence as a friend?"

Persephone looked across at Karkaroff, and smiled grimly.

"No; I'd describe the Witness for the Defence as a git," she replied. Many of the Wizengamot began to titter quietly. Madam Bones banged her gavel against her desk.

"Order!" she demanded, and the courtroom fell silent. "How do you know each other?"

"He was my Headmaster for five years at Durmstrang Institute," Persephone explained.

"When did you leave his educational care?" Madam Bones asked.

"Just after my O.W.L.S," Persephone explained. "I attended Beaubaxtons during my N.E.W.T.S."

"Do either of you object to presiding against each other in a court of law?" Madam Bones asked. Persephone and Karkaroff glared at each other.

"I do not if she does not," Karkaroff replied, in his usual oily manner.

"I have no problem with it," Persephone added.

"Then, let us continue," Madam Bones announced. "Professor Beauchamp, your opening statement?"

Persephone nodded.

"Certainly- I have requested this appeal against the decision to sentence Sirius Black to Life Imprisonment in Azkaban Prison. I have reason to believe that he was framed for the murder of those thirteen Muggles on that fateful day back in 1981, and furthermore, my Witness and I have necessary proof and eyewitness accounts to prove unequivocally that this man-" She pointed at Peter Pettigrew here. "This man is the one responsible for this heinous crime. After all, even the Ministry believed him to be dead- the only part of him ever found was his finger. As you can no doubt see, we have now found a much larger part of him, and he doesn't look very dead to me." Persephone sat down upon finishing this statement.

"Would the Defence please make their opening statement?"

Karkaroff stood up now, adjusting the collar of his robes, before clearing his throat and beginning his statement.

"It is true that my client, Peter Pettigrew, did indeed fake his own death, but it was for precisely the reasons that Black was sentenced; he was the Dark Lord's greatest supporter, after all, and my client feared for his life. Black had many friends and comrades amongst Voldemort's servants, comrades that would gladly have murdered Mr. Pettigrew if he had not gone into hiding. Furthermore, I believe the word of this woman is not to be trusted, for I have proof of my own as to her flawed character, proof which I will bring into this very courtroom in due course!"

"I somehow thought you might, Igor," Persephone added, with a small laugh. "That at least ought to be good for a laugh," she said, addressing the Wizengamot. Madam Bones fixed her with a steely glare.

"Professor Beauchamp, I must remind you not to speak out of turn in court," she said. Persephone nodded.

"Sorry, Madam," she replied, in a suitably meek manner that caused Karkaroff to roll his eyes haughtily.

"I can't believe they've got the gall to try and insist Sirius was in cahoots with Voldemort!" Hermione hissed.

"Face it, this is what the entire trial hinges on, really," Ron replied, sagely. Hermione bit her lip.

"I hate it; it's not fair," she whispered back. Ron appeared to struggle with himself for a brief moment, before he reached over and took Hermione's hand in his.

"It'll be fine," he said, in that same cheerful voice that didn't fool Harry one bit, and he doubted fooled Hermione. Nevertheless, she rested her head against his shoulders and buried her face in his robes, as though trying to hide from the hearing altogether.

The hearing really just went over facts and figures that Harry had heard a million times over before; Persephone wheeled herself around the courtroom on her gliding wheelchair, gesticulating about Wormtail's Animagus status, his missing finger (now a missing hand), and the way he resided with the Weasley's without their knowledge, in a manner Harry thought was most engaging. This calmed him somewhat, especially when he saw that the Wizengamot members were apparently just as captivated as he was by her words. Not before long, Harry was called to give evidence.

"Will Mr. Harry James Potter please take the stand," Madam Bones ordered, and Harry found himself being ushered up to the witness box, and being handed a small glass.

"Drink," a gruff guard in navy blue robes ordered. Harry sniffed the contents suspiciously.

"What is this?" he asked, half wondering whether he should ask for something to calm his thumping headache.

"Veritaserum," came the reply. Harry stared at Madam Bones.

"Veritaserum?" he asked, desperate for some kind of affirmation. "You mean I have to drink this stuff?"

"Standard procedure on a trial of this severity," she replied. "It won't hurt you, Mr. Potter- nobody will ask you any questions other than those pertaining to the trial."

"It's alright, Harry," Persephone mouthed to him, and so Harry swallowed the contents. It tasted bitter and burned along his throat, so much so that for a moment, Harry thought he might just throw it back up. Instead he merely swallowed once more, and felt his mind begin to fog over. Quickly, the fog lifted, and Harry felt clear of mind- even the pain in his head had begun to wear off.

"Now then, Mr. Potter- please tell the court what happened on the night you first came face to face with Sirius Black, back in 1994?" Madam Bones asked. Harry felt his mouth engage and his jaw move. It took a few moments before he realised he was actually speaking.

"Hermione, Ron and I found out that Sirius was an Animagus- he could turn into a dog. He dragged Ron down into the Shrieking Shack. First, we thought he was going to kill us. Then Remus turned up..."

"Who is Remus?" Madam Bones enquired.

"Professor Remus John Lupin," Harry replied, dully. "He was teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts that year. He was a friend of my dad's, and of Sirius. And Peter Pettigrew..."

Madam Bones nodded. "Please continue," she said, interrupting Harry's tale. He felt sure he was going to add more about his place in the Order of the Phoenix, and secretly felt relieved Madam Bones had stopped him.

"We thought they were both trying to kill us- then they started talking about Peter Pettigrew. I'd heard he was dead- killed by Sirius. Only he wasn't. Sirius told us that he wanted to commit the murder he had been sentenced for. Then Snape turned up, and they had a fight..."

"Kindly inform the court as to whom Snape is," Madam Bones instructed. Harry swallowed involuntarily.

"Professor Severus Snape. He teaches Potions at Hogwarts. He's my half-sis..."

"That will do," Persephone suddenly announced. "Is that all you require, Madam Bones? You are due to question the Professor in due course, after all."

"Yes, that will suffice, Mr. Potter," Madam Bones replied. "However, this is the second time I have needed to remind you not to speak out of turn, Professor..."

"I'm sorry, Madam- I'm used to speaking out of turn- it's part of my job," she replied, with a winsome smile that caused Madam Bones to stop frowning briefly.

"Kindly refrain from making it a third time, Professor. Now, Mr. Potter, if you could continue to tell us about that night?"

Harry sucked in another breath. He was very grateful that Persephone had jumped in at that point, for he knew he was seconds away from informing the entire Wizengamot that Persephone was his half-sister, and that Snape was her father. He assumed Persephone had noticed too, given her eagerness to halt his tale.

"Snape thought Sirius and Remus were going to kill us, I think," Harry continued. "Then again, he and Sirius hated each other, anyway- Sirius had made fun of him at school and played pranks on him and the like. I think Snape had gone a bit barmy over it all, to tell you the truth." Harry inwardly cringed, and did his best to avoid Snape's furious glower. He was going to be in so much trouble when they got out of this hearing, but he couldn't help his words. "He threatened Sirius and tied up Remus, then Hermione, Ron and I knocked him out with a spell. We only meant to disarm him, but we all did it at the same time... After that, Sirius and Remus made Wormtail- that's Peter Pettigrew- transform back into human form. Sirius explained how he had switched with Pettigrew as my parents' Secret Keeper as a bluff- to trick Voldemort-" The congregation winced, "into thinking that Sirius was the Secret Keeper, and therefore focusing his efforts on Sirius, when all the while, Pettigrew would be the one he needed to find my parents. Except that Pettigrew told him where my parents were. He denied it all, but he had been hiding as Ron's pet rat for years- that doesn't seem like something somebody innocent would do. He was scared Voldemort's-" The congregation winced once more at the use of his name, "followers would kill him, seeing as betraying my parents' and leading him to them resulted in his death."

Harry looked around, as he had finished his story. Madam Bones caught his eye, and stood up.

"Does the Witness for the Defence wish to cross-examine the current witness?" she asked. Karkaroff stood up, and nodded.

"Then, proceed," Madam Bones said. Karkaroff cleared his throat, and sauntered forward, so that he was face to face with Harry.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter," he said coldly, "did Pettigrew ever state that he had committed these crimes?"

"No," Harry replied, his dull voice ringing in his own ears. Karkaroff smiled grimly.

"And what did he do when confronted with these... accusations?"

"He denied them," Harry replied. "But he didn't deny that he had been spying for Voldemort-" another sharp intake of air was audible throughout the courtroom, "for over a year, nor that he sold my parents to him."

Karkaroff nodded curtly.

"But did he equivocally state that he had committed these crimes?" he urged. Harry sighed.

"No, he did not," Harry replied, frustration welling up inside him, but unable to tarnish his vocal cords. Karkaroff smiled again.

"No further questions," he replied, genially.

"Thank you. Mr. Potter; you may leave the stand," Madam Bones added. Harry obeyed and left the stand, relieved he was not to be questioned anymore.

Hermione was swiftly called up and asked pretty much the same questions under Veritaserum, followed by Ron. Both their stories, naturally, matched his own, and the dark murmurings of the Wizengamot seemed to indicate that this had not gone unnoticed by them. Harry's legs were still shaking, though thankfully, it wasn't too noticeable under his robes. Sadly, his headache had returned with a vengeance.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, resting her hand on his arm as Ron sat down next to them after his cross-examination was over.

"Yeah," Harry lied. "Nothing to worry about. My head is hurting, though."

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks of concern.

"Has it been hurting long?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"On and off since I was with Gyaltsen," he explained, before his head started to pound further. Ron's voice floated into the distance, as a force that seemed to rip his head open imploded. Harry braced himself; he knew what was coming...

"My Lord, please, calm yourself..."

A loud, guttural screech of fury echoed through the small dank room that Harry was currently witnessing. He saw Voldemort throw a nearby chair against a wall with a flick of his wand- it smashed into over a thousand pieces.

"Don't you dare propose to suggest I calm myself, Dolohov!" he yelled. "Look what that bastard little half-blood has done to me!"

Dolohov winced as he glanced at Voldemort's face, where the latter was pointing angrily.

"It really isn't that bad, my Lord..."

A jet of light erupted from Voldemort's wand, and Dolohov writhed in agony on the stone floor. Voldemort crouched down next to him and watched.

"I would kindly advise you not to argue with me, Dolohov," he said, coolly as he released Dolohov from the Cruciatus curse. "First I find Severus has been betraying me for all these years, then his daughter rips out my eye and- worse still- actually manages to escape my grasp. I was so close to breaking her, I'm sure..." He began to hum a tune that Harry recognised from Persephone, but before Harry could identify it, he swiftly tutted angrily. "And now I'm left with that ridiculous Muggle song stuck in my head... Do you know, I'm almost annoyed..."

He stood back up, his pale face glinting in the dim light of the torches that floated near the low ceiling of the room. Unexpectedly, he aimed his wand at a crumpled set of rags, and whispered a curse that caused whatever was in the rags to jerk painfully and tense up in agony. Voldemort ended the spell, and sniggered.

"Aren't you done with that yet, Nott?" he asked, sarcastically. "Then again, seeing as you managed to let the Potter boy slip through your fingers, I shouldn't be too surprised..."

"My Lord, he won't talk..." Nott tried to defend himself, but Voldemort seemed uninterested.

"That's the trouble nowadays," he commented. "Nobody takes the time to talk to each other..." He kicked at the figure curled up in the rags, and it groaned weakly from the contact.

"But, My Lord, what should we do about the Snapes? That girl wouldn't talk, but perhaps Severus might..."

Voldemort waved his hand dismissively.

"I don't care anymore, to be honest. I grow weary of trying to extract any kind of sense out of those vagabonds," he said, calmly. "Just see to it that they're all killed- I don't much care how. But bring Severus to me- I want to teach him a lesson personally, for daring to be so deceitful. I don't take duplicity very well when it isn't on my terms," he added, in a cold tone.

"But, My Lord," Nott began, timidly, "what about the Original Cross?"

Voldemort shrugged.

"If they don't know, and I don't know, then it isn't an immediate concern. However, if you do chance upon something that might resemble it, please bring it to me. Dolohov?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Make sure they die. Horribly. I'll leave the finer point to you," Voldemort ordered. Dolohov bowed so low, his mask touched the floor next to Voldemort's feet.

"Of course, My Lord. I will enlist Lucius and Bellatrix to bring Severus to you- they'll be certain to want their revenge. But the rest?" he enquired, hopefully. Voldemort shrugged.

"Like I said- I leave that entirely up to you. As long as they're dead, I don't care. Have fun. Maybe this will lend you a hand, come tomorrow night- assuming all goes to plan..." Voldemort grabbed the grunting creature with his bony right hand and dragged it up to meet its eye. Harry felt his heart pound with shock when the creature's face was revealed- it was a battered Lupin, and he stared at Voldemort's left arm with defiance. Harry assumed despite his situation, he was not willing to allow Voldemort any more of a chance to perform Legilmency on him. He twisted his neck a little, and Harry could see scars on his neck that were beginning to heal. Scars that spelt out 'Not Me'.

Suddenly, Harry's nose was assaulted by a nasty smelling concoction that he could not identify. He began to wonder where exactly the smell was coming from, when a burst of fierce smoke billowed through the room, obscuring everybody's view.

"Excuse me, ladies!" he heard a familiar voice announce. "We'll be gone before you know it!"

Something clattered onto the floor, and immediately began to hum a lilting tune, one that made Harry feel quite drowsy. The sudden clattering of weapons and bodies against the stone floor indicated that he wasn't the only one who felt this way.

"C'mon, Loup, get up," the familiar voice grunted, and Harry swiftly realised that it belonged to Benjamin Sampson...

Harry's eyes snapped open, and he saw Ron and Hermione peering worriedly over him.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione whispered. "We thought you'd fainted!"

"I... It was another vision thing, I think. I saw Lupin. It might have been a dream," Harry replied, disjointedly. Ron helped him up into a sitting position.

"Nobody has really noticed, mate," he said, soothingly. "Karkaroff has been trying to discredit our statements- a bit difficult when they've been given under Veritaserum. He tried to question Snape under it, too, but Anya had thought ahead. She had paperwork preventing him from being administered with it; faked some allergy, I think. Just as well, really- think what he might have revealed!"

Harry nodded; he could see the logic in not wanting Snape to be under Veritaserum considering the veritable ticking time bomb of delicate information he held on the Order, Persephone and Merlin knew what else.

"He tried the same thing with Persephone when she was giving her eyewitness account of meeting Sirius," Hermione added. "But Anya explained about how Persephone already had well over the safe limit of Veritaserum in her blood. She didn't even need to go into Persephone's resistance to the truth serum."

Harry nodded, a wave of relief washing over him. Surely it was only a matter of time before Sirius was pardoned?

Soon enough, Harry saw Wormtail being led into the witness box by two burly looking guards, who held his heavy iron manacles as though he might jump out of them and escape at any moment, which, Harry conceded, wasn't exactly unlikely.

"Would the witness for the Prosecution begin her examination of the Defendant?" Madam Bones instructed, and Anya stood up purposefully.

"Before I begin," she said, clearly. "I would like to request that, in accordance with Clause Seven of Paragraph Three of the Law pertaining to Fair Trial and Interrogation, that the Defendant is administered Ministry-Standard Veritaserum before my questioning."

She looked at Madam Bones, who appeared surprised.

"That's a rather old law," she pointed out. "It is standard practise to administer Veritaserum to eyewitnesses in cases of this severity, but not to the Defendant..."

"But nevertheless, the law is still applicable," Anya countered. Madam Bones nodded and turned to face Wormtail and Karkaroff.

"Have you any valid reason as to why the Defendant may not be administered Veritaserum?" she asked. Karkaroff stood up angrily.

"I was not made aware of this!" he spluttered. Anya surveyed him coolly

"Had you familiarised yourself with British Wizarding Law, you would know of this; the law clearly states that the Defendant, as well as the witnesses, may be administered Veritaserum to verify their accounts. You would also know that the Ministry require written confirmation, verified by a known Healer, of any medical reasons for refusal," she stated, officiously.

"My client is allergic to Veritaserum," Karkaroff stated, plainly. Anya nodded, and held out her hand.

"I would like to see the relevant paperwork, please," she requested. Karkaroff glared at her.

"As soon as I see the relevant paperwork pertaining to why Professor Beauchamp and Professor Snape may not be administered Veritaserum!" he demanded. Anya nodded, and handed over a bundle of papers to Madam Bones.

"As I previously stated, Professor Beauchamp is currently undergoing treatment for Veritaserum poisoning, and will be unable to be administered the drug for quite some time. Professor Snape has a most unfortunate allergy to the Ministry-Standard compound, and as no other form is permissible for use in a court of law, he is also exempt," Anya explained. Madam Bones nodded, and handed the papers back to Anya, who held them in front of Karkaroff's nose.

"I trust these are all in order- they have been signed by a Chief Healer, who can testify as to Professor Beauchamp's current state of Veritaserum toxicity, and to Professor Snape's allergy."

Karkaroff nodded curtly. Anya smiled genially at him.

"So, might I see your client's papers?" she asked, and Harry presumed the smug smile she had plastered over her face was mainly to do with the fact that she predicted that Karkaroff had no such papers.

"I do not have any such papers," he said, stiffly, and Harry's guess was proven correct. Anya smiled.

"So, might I now persist with enforcing Clause Seven of Paragraph Three of the Law pertaining to Fair Trial and Interrogation?" she asked. Madam Bones looked across at Arthur and Daniel Calahan.

"Do the interrogators concur?" she enquired. Arthur nodded, and so did Calahan.

"I concur," they both announced, almost in chorus. Madam Bones nodded.

"Then you may proceed, Miss Bhajitir," she stated, as the same guard that had forced a glassful of Veritaserum solution down Harry's throat did much the same to Wormtail, who gagged under the pressure. The guard clamped his jaws shut until he swallowed the mixture.

"Right," Anya announced, her high heels clattering against the stone floor as she strode past Wormtail. "Mr. Pettigrew, how did you kill those thirteen Muggles?" she asked, leaning casually against the witness box. Wormtail gulped, and appeared to try and wrestle with the Veritaserum, but it did little good.

"I aimed a curse at the gas pipes in the area- it caused a huge explosion, and that's how those people died..."

Karkaroff looked livid; he jumped up angrily out of his seat.

"Objection!" he yelled. "The Witness for the Prosecution is putting words into my client's mouth!"

"Objection Overruled," Madam Bones interrupted, harshly. "Continue, Miss Bhajitir."

Anya nodded.

"Why did you perform this curse, Mr. Pettigrew?" she asked.

"I needed to escape from Sirius Black- he was trying to kill me," Wormtail replied, a little more confidently this time. Anya nodded, and walked past the witness box once more.

"Why was Sirius Black trying to kill you?" she asked. Wormtail's face fell.

"I... I... because he knew I had told the Dark Lord of Lily and James Potter's whereabouts," he explained, in that dull voice Harry had come to associate with being under the influence of Veritaserum.

"How often had you passed information to Vo... He Who Must Not Be Named?" Anya asked.

"For about a year," he replied, simply.

"How did you hide from Sirius Black?" Anya asked.

"I transformed into a rat and escaped through the sewers," he explained.

"Where did you go for the next twelve years?"

"I hid with the Weasleys."

"Why?"

"Because they were a large wizarding family- I would be able to hear whether the Dark Lord was going to return."

"Were the Weasleys aware of this?"

"No."

"Did you plan to return to He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For protection."

The Court Scribe was busily jotting down notes, but that was the only other sound Harry could make out, for the entire Wizengamot appeared to be holding their breaths in shock and anticipation.

"So," Anya continued unrelentlessly, "You say you turned into a rat- am I right in assuming you are an Animagus?"

"Yes," Wormtail replied. Anya frowned.

"Are you registered with the Ministry?" she asked.

"No," Wormtail replied.

"One last thing, Mr. Pettigrew- would you roll up the sleeves of your robes?" Anya asked. Wormtail nodded, and obeyed her command. The flesh of his forearms showed little but a few scratch marks. Anya pulled out her wand and announced, "Fateor macula!"

Suddenly, Wormtail shrieked in agony, and a huge pulsing light wriggled its way under the skin of his arm. Within seconds, a jet-black image of the Dark Mark swelled up on Wormtail's left arm. The congregation gasped.

"Are you a Death Eater, Mr. Pettigrew?"

Wormtail nodded.

"Yes," he replied, dully.

"Was Sirius Black a servant of He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"No," he replied.

"Did he ever work for He Who Must Not Be Named in any way?"

There was a pause.

"No," Wormtail replied.

"Thank you. That is all," Anya said, before sitting down.

Harry's heart was pumping very fast as the closing statements of both Persephone and Karkaroff were made. Persephone talked about Sirius' background, and how he had been so desperate to stand against his family's beliefs that he left home at sixteen- which McGonagall verified- as well as his devotion to Harry and other things that made it even less likely that he would ever have served Voldemort. Karkaroff's closing statement was a little more uncertain, but seeing as his Defendant had just basically admitted to committing all the crimes he was being charged with, there wasn't a great deal he could say to rectify the situation.

It took the Wizengamot fifteen minutes to reach a decision, and Harry was surprised at how quickly they filed back into the courtroom.

"Well, that was quick," Hermione commented. "That's either really good- or really bad..."

"How can it be bad?" Ron asked. "Wormtail admitted everything under Veritaserum! How can they possibly argue against that?"

Harry couldn't answer Ron, but nevertheless, he felt so nervous, he couldn't stop shaking, and felt stupid for it. He looked across at Persephone and Anya, who were chattering excitedly amongst themselves. They didn't seem too nervous about the result, although from what little he knew about Anya in their short meeting, she didn't trust the Ministry to make any kind of sensible decision when it comes to Law Enforcement.

"All rise!" Madam Bones ordered, and the whole congregation stood up, until she motioned for them to sit back down.

"Foreman of the Wizengamot- have you reached a verdict?" Madam Bones requested. An elderly wizard stood up, stepped towards a small lectern, and nodded.

"We have."

"For the crime of murder in the first degree of thirteen Muggles with a single curse during October 1981; how do you find the Defendant?"

"Guilty," the wizard replied, looking at the piece of paper he held in his hands.

"For falsifying evidence against an innocent party; how do you find the Defendant?"

"Guilty."

"For the crime of illegally obtaining the ability to become an Animagus and for not stating this information to the relevant authorities?"

"Guilty."

Madam Bones looked at Wormtail.

"Peter Pettigrew, you have been found guilty of murder, falsifying evidence, and illegally possessing the ability to become an animagus. You are hereby sentenced for the following crimes; Murder in the first degree of thirteen Muggles- thirteen consecutive life sentences in Azkaban; Falsifying evidence against an innocent party- ten years imprisonment in Azkaban; Illegal possession and obtaining of Animagus status- five years imprisonment in Azkaban. Your incarceration will begin immediately, with no possibility of parole. I hereby officially declare Sirius Black innocent of all charges previously attributed to him."

Harry felt elated as he heard Madam Bones' gavel hammer down on her desk, signifying the end of the trial. He knew Wormtail had been guilty, but to actually see him be punished for his crimes, and to see Sirius Black exonerated, was something he never thought would happen.

"See, Harry- I told you," Ron said, although the look on his face told Harry he had been tremendously surprised. Hermione hugged them both fiercely.

"I know it would have been much more useful if it had come sooner, but at least now Sirius' character is restored," she said. Harry noticed she looked a little sad. He understood why, for he did feel upset that Sirius was not here to enjoy his newfound freedom. Not only that, but he felt sad that Lupin wasn't here to witness this, either. As one of Sirius' closest friends, he would have wanted to see justice done. Harry was sure Hermione would have been thinking about Lupin's part in this, too. Nevertheless, he was pleased that justice had finally been done- although Steve did keep badgering in the left-hand side of his brain about how, just one year ago, Wormtail would have had to endure the Dementors' Kiss.

As they filed out of the courtroom once Wormtail had been carted away to Azkaban by the two burly guards, Harry passed Persephone and Anya, who were standing in the courtroom. Or, rather, Anya was standing; Persephone was sitting in her magically enhanced wheelchair.

"That was too easy," Persephone said, with a huge grin on her face. Anya nodded.

"I feel cheap," she joked, before glancing around. "Still, you've paid your debt now."

Persephone nodded, and shook Anya's hand.

"Indeed I have," she replied. Anya grinned.

"Perhaps now you might want to think about paying up for a few rounds in the Leaky Cauldron?" she joked. Persephone stared at her in mock outrage.

"Hey! I'm the injured party here!" she joked. "You ought to be buying me drinks to block out the mind-numbing pain!"

Anya's expression became serious as they made their way out of the courtroom.

"It is painful, then?" she asked. Persephone nodded.

"Come on, Anya- just look at me. Of course it's painful. But I've suffered worse."

Anya smiled sympathetically.

"I suppose you have died already," she said, as they exited the courtroom. Persephone sighed heavily.

"It's just..." She trailed off. Anya looked sharply at her.

"What?" she asked. "Do you think we could have got financial compensation for punitive damages? Or maybe for insanity caused by wrongful imprisonment? I was thinking of that- I know Sirius couldn't have benefited, but his godson..."

"Remus- I think he'd have wanted to see this," Persephone finished. Anya surveyed her with utmost suspicion.

"Excuse me?" she enquired.

"He was one of Sirius' friends. Well, I found that out recently, but... Voldemort's got him," Persephone explained.

"I'm sorry," Anya said, as though Persephone had just sounded a death knell. Persephone shook her head.

"Oh, Sam's gone after him. I'm sure he'll be fine... It's just... He'd have wanted to see this, I'm certain," Persephone explained. Anya looked surprised.

"This isn't like you, Persephone," she said. Persephone looked up at her.

"What, my new-found milk of human kindness?" she enquired, in a sarcastic manner. Anya shook her head.

"No- this concern over something so arbitrary... Are you in love with him, or something?" she asked, suddenly. Persephone looked as though someone has just suggested she start training for the Decathlon this very moment.

"What?" she enquired, before laughing a little. "Don't be perverse, he's almost... no, wait. Scratch that- he is the same age as my father."

Anya shrugged.

"Alright- I just wondered," she replied, nonchalantly.

Once they were all standing outside the courtroom, and Harry had stopped inwardly sniggering at the thought of Lupin and Persephone picking out curtains together, he chanced a look at Ron's watch.

"It's nearly time for our lessons!" he exclaimed. Ron groaned.

"You don't suppose McGonagall will excuse us with a note, do you?" he suggested, although he sounded unconvinced. Hermione shook her head.

"It's not much of an excuse- we only got up a few hours early," she countered. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Well, of course for you, nothing should get in the way of lessons," he replied, acerbically. Hermione glared at him.

"Just because I care about my education," she snapped back.

"Hope we're not interrupting this tender moment," Fred joked, slapping Ron on the back.

"Yeah- we just wanted to say congratulations, Harry. Well, you know, as much as the whole situation can be congratulated," George said, solemnly. Harry smiled.

"Thanks- and really, it's a good thing. I'm glad he's been put away for those crimes," he replied. Fred grinned.

"Glad to hear it, Harry. At least now you can be sure the Ministry are playing fair by you- anyway, Persephone seems elated. You might benefit from that when she gets back to teaching..."

"Do you know when she'll get back?" Ron asked. Fred and George looked at each other, before shrugging.

"'Fraid not," Fred replied.

"Apparently, if all goes well, she should be back teaching in a few weeks- she'll be staying in the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts, though, presumably so we can ask her questions," Hermione explained. Ron gawped at her.

"How do you know...?" He trailed off, as realisation flitted across his face. "Of course- Viktor."

"You say it as though it's some sort of crime to be writing to him," Hermione said, through gritted teeth.

"Well, we'd just like to get a few words in before you two start your merry song-and-dance again," Fred interrupted blithely, in a way Harry wished he could do more often.

"Only we thought we'd say goodbye- we need to open the shop up. We don't trust our part-timers to do it properly," George added. Fred nodded.

"So, you three have a good day at school, and mind you get into some good, old-fashioned trouble," he said. Hermione looked at them.

"We hardly plan to get into any trouble," she replied, hotly. Fred grinned at Ron.

"I don't know- first Prefect, now Head Boy; she's a bad influence on you, Ron," he said, before both he and George departed.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and Harry thought they were spoiling for another argument, except that a loud bleeping noise distracted them all. It was coming from Alex's hip. She frowned, and pulled out what looked like a small black money pouch from under her robes. Harry couldn't help but smile, as he knew it was anything but- it was the Brethren's own method of swift communication. He recalled that same device when it was still in its prototype stage, and made a noise that sounded ominously like an explosion. He imagined the Ministry wouldn't have approved of such a racket, especially at this time of the morning.

"It's Ben," Alex announced solemnly to the gathered crowd. "They've found Remus. He's... well, let's just say he needs urgent medical attention."