Harry got his hands on the Daily Prophet at breakfast the next morning. Ginny was already investigating the Egyptian tombs with her brothers, since Egypt was two hours before Britain.

Gin, look at this! He exclaimed happily as he read the front page. Hedwig, who had insisted on coming down to breakfast with him, took the opportunity of his distraction to take a sip of his pumpkin juice.

What, Harry? She asked, peering into his mind as he showed her the front page.

BLACK SENTENCED WITHOUT TRIAL – CASE REOPENED!

Late last night an emergency Wizengamot meeting was called together, where it was shed light upon Sirius Black's capture and imprisonment in 1981. He was at the point though to be the man who betrayed the Potters and who killed thirteen people while laughing like a madman. However, it was revealed last night that Black was condemned to a lifetime in prison without his legal right to a trial. With no opportunity to explain himself, how can we all be sure of what happened? Could there be more to the story than what those witnesses could tell?

With these questions in mind, the Wizengamot will set a trial for August 3rd, and ask Mr. Black to give himself over to the Ministry at latest in two days, August 2ndto stay in a holding cell at the Ministry until the trial, which will be done with Veridicus Stilla, to erase all doubt.

(More about the betrayal of the Potters, page 4, interview with Remus Lupin, close friend of the Potters and Sirius Black on page 5)

That's brilliant, Harry! Ginny exclaimed.

Isn't it? Better than the Monster Book of Monsters from Hagrid, Harry thought of the book that had arrived as a wrapped present this morning along with a note from the Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys.

Did you notice they didn't mention Fudge in the article at all? I suppose he doesn't want to be associated with it, since he was one of the vocal ones for having Black imprisoned last time, Ginny reasoned as she watched Bill relate the discovery of one particularly big tomb.

I noticed, Harry said, although he did what I asked of him, so I'm not going to complain. I should write a letter to Sirius.

He ripped the page out of the Prophet, rummaged in his school bag, which had been squished inside his trunk all summer, and found a torn piece of parchment.

Dear Sirius,

The Ministry has arranged your trial. I'm not sure if you would know while in hiding, so I thought I'd send this to you. I hope it goes well.

Harry.

He folded the note inside the ripped news page and tucked it in Hedwig's beak. "Can you find Sirius for me?" he muttered softly to her.

Hedwig hooted and allowed him to carry her to the open window, where she flew off.

Ginny, do you know what Veridicus Stilla is? Is it a spell? It sounds latin, Harry pointed out.

It's a truth potion, I think. More powerful than Veritaserum, which is unreliable because it's possible to resist, but it's more risky to use too, so it's not normally used in trials. At least dad says so, Ginny told him. Anyway, I think I'll tell Bill about our bond today. We'll be leaving in four days, so that way he might have some time to dig out some information before we leave.

That might be a good idea, Harry agreed and returned to his breakfast.

What are you going to do today?

Finish that essay about witch burnings for Professor Binns. It's the only one left now, Harry said.

Harry finished the essay with some help from Florean Fortesque, who ran the ice cream parlour in Diagon Alley. With his knowledge of medieval witch burning, it was done by mid afternoon. By then, Ginny had related the events of the Chamber and what had happened afterwards to a more than shocked Bill.

Ron had been there and confirmed everything, even the mental communication and Harry's mind-reading abilities.

"I'm not an expert, mind you, and I don't think anyone is, because of the rarity of such a bond. But according to what I know, the symptoms are all there. Just to be certain, I could do a spell to check, but that would require Harry too," Bill said with a frown, watching Ginny.

"He's staying at The Leaky Cauldron. We could go there as soon as we get home to England," Ginny said, and upon Bill's quizzical expression, quickly explained why.

"And they let him off, just like that?"

"Yes," Ginny answered.

"Right… I suppose we should do that, then. If it is a soulbond, which we think it is, a prolonged first stage is not beneficial for your health – for either of you," Bill said.

"So what are we going to do? Harry and I both wanted to be there to tell mum and dad, but since Ron said you knew of it, we had to ask you," Ginny said.

"It's okay to wait until we get Harry; I think it's best, actually. Separating a complete soulbonded couple can have devastating effects, especially if Harry already is as strong as you say he is. It's even more illegal when the bond is completed. He's supposed to gain most of his powers only after that, and you two will grow very dependent of each other," Bill said, looking from Harry to Ginny and back.

"How do you complete a soulbond?" Ron asked, watching Bill with a slight apprehension.

"With a kiss," Bill said grimly.

"A kiss? Oh Merlin! Mum's going to go spare!" Ginny exclaimed, "how are we going to explain that to her?"

"Simple. It's not healthy for you to remain at the first stage long enough for you to grow up, and to try to destroy the bond will kill you both. She has no option," Bill said. He did not look happy, but who would, when knowing his almost-twelve years old little sister was magically bound to a boy only a year older than her for the rest of her life?

Ginny had assured both of her brothers that she and Harry genuinely cared about each other, and that they couldn't be happier with the bond. While not expected, Ginny firmly told Bill that she couldn't live her life without Harry now that she had him, and Harry told her to inform Bill that he felt the same way.

Hedwig returned in the evening with a reply from Sirius.

Dear Harry,

Thank you for telling me. I will turn myself in, although I will cross my fingers and hope that the trial happens the way the Prophet says it will.

Sirius.

That evening, after having polished his Nimbus 2000 with the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had sent him with Hedwig, who had flown to France on her own initiative, he fell into a deep sleep where he dreamt of Ginny. They were chatting and laughing in a flowery meadow. All of the sudden, she kissed him. From where their lips met a pleasant tingling spread through Harry's body. She beamed at him and kissed him again, once again sending those pulses of pleasantness through him.

Then he woke. Recalling Ginny's discussion with Bill the day before, he wondered if kissing Ginny for real would feel like this. He realized that he wanted to try; in fact, he needed to kiss her. It felt like a requirement for living that had appeared overnight. All through the day and through the next night he had to fight in order to not think of kissing Ginny absolutely all the time. At some points he thought he was going crazy until Ginny reminded him that she felt likewise, and that it probably was because of the bond.

August 2nd Harry received a letter from a brown owl that he didn't recognize. He relieved it from the letter and opened it. There was no seal indicating who it was from.

Mr. Harry Potter,

I invite you to come and watch the trial of Sirius Black tomorrow at 10.00 a.m., courtroom 10. Seat 15G will be saved for you, just please keep my name out of it if you have to explain to anyone.

C.O.F.

Harry had to think twice about who C.O.F. was, but with the last sentence and the C and the F concluded it to be Cornelius Fudge, with O representing his middle name.

That's kind of him, Ginny said.

I rather think he did it to make sure I am satisfied with the trial, Harry replied in a smug tone.

Ginny answered with a giggle. I'm looking forward to see the trial tomorrow. It's going to be very interesting.

Do you have any idea of how to get to the Ministry of Magic? Does't Mr. Weasley work there?

Uhh… yeah, I think I might remember; there's a fellytone booth in London somewhere… Whitehall! It's supposed to be in an old booth near that underground trainstation; I was there once when Ron, Percy and the twins were with mum in Diagon Alley, and I went with Charlie to visit dad at work. We walked from The Leaky Cauldron; it's not far at all.

A telephone booth, Ginny, Harry corrected in an amused voice.

Yeah, that. And then you dial… err… magic, but I didn't understand that when Charlie said it, Ginny said.

I do, Harry ensured her, remembering the layout of letters and numbers on telephone.

Harry spent the day before Sirius' trial, wondering how things would turn out if his godfather was declared innocent. Would he be able to leave the Dursleys? Perhaps Sirius would want to live with him? He knew he shouldn't get his hope up, remembering how bad Sirius had looked when he'd encountered him in Surrey.

He also checked out the shops in Diagon Alley, and searched Flourish and Blotts from top to bottom for a book about soulbonds, and when he asked the clerk for a book about it for a research project about magical myths and legends, the man told him that he'd have more luck in Knockturn Alley, but advised him not to go there without an adult. Or not at all.

Harry, having been in Knockturn Alley by accident, had no problem following the advice, and left to Madam Malkin's to buy a set of robes that he could use outside of Hogwarts. They ended up being dark blue, formal enough for watching a trial, Madam Malkin assured him when he explained his purpose.

Harry woke early, even for him, the day of Sirius' trial. Even Ginny was still asleep, but Harry couldn't make himself go back to sleep; the prospect of leaving the Dursleys had him pacing the room until the clock reached six in the morning, when Tom opened up for breakfast.

While Tom served him toast with eggs and bacon, Harry asked him for the route to the guest entrance of the Ministry of Magic.

Tom watched him with wide eyes. "You surely aren't going there alone, are you, Mr. Potter?"

"There's no one else I could go with. I've heard it's a rather short walk?"

"Indeed it is. Let me have a moment; I will get you a map and draw a route for you," Tom said kindly.

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said gratefully and turned his attention to his breakfast.

Tom soon returned, and Ginny, having woken up by now, paid as close attention as Harry to his explanation. "It's an old, rather shabby telephone booth; red. You can't miss it. Then you dial 6-2-4-4-2. Pardon me, I haven't been inside the Ministry much, but I think there is a sign. Or at least there should be someone to ask how to find what you're looking for."

"Right. Thanks," Harry said and took the map. He studied it for a while after Tom had left, and basically waited for time to pass.

At nine o'clock he couldn't find a valid enough excuse to wait a little longer, even though Tom had said that the trip was only a few minutes of brisk walk.

He found the telephone booth rather easily, stepped inside and dialled the number.

Oh, that's what it means! I didn't know there were letters with the numbers, Ginny said, watching the telephone through him.

It normally is. Although this phone is oldfashioned by muggle standards. I haven't seen anyone with a rotary dial, Harry said.

He then startled by a female voice, which sounded as if the woman was right beside him, and not like a muggle loudspeaker system. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and purpose."

Harry hesitated for a short moment. "Harry Potter. I'm here to watch a trial."

"Thank you. Please take the badge and pin it to the front of your robes."

A badge slid out through the chute below the phone, where money usually was returned. It said Harry Potter – Trial witness. Harry took it and pinned it to the right side of the chest of his brand new robes.

"You are required to subit to search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the atrium."

The floor shook, and then it dropped. For a long while the lift continued to drop into the darkness of the ground until it lowered into a vast hall with dark, polished wooden floor and walls. Above was a peacock blue ceiling decorated with symbols and figures of gold that shifted and re-shaped continuously. By the walls were exquisitely decorated fireplaces; from those on the left side people emerged with a soft woosh every other second. On the right side were short lines of people waiting to floo out of the building. A massive fountain was placed in the middle of the atrium, and dozens of paper planes flew through the air with no logical source of power.

"The Ministry wishes you a pleasant day," the woman spoke, and the door sprung open. Harry stepped outside and immediately began to search for the security desk. He found it rather easily, and the wizared lounging in a chair beside it with a newspaper, stood when Harry stopped in front of him. He looked rather scruffy to be working in such a high place as the Ministry.

Without a word he led a flexible golden stick down Harry's body on the front and back. He looked no less bored by his discoveries.

"Your wand, please," he said.

Harry hesitantly handed over his wand, which the wizard put inside an odd-looking brass device. It spewed out a strip of parchment that the wizard took and read. "Phoenix core, eleven inches, in use for two years, yeah?"

"Yes," Harry replied, wondering what the data would be good for. The wizard shoved the wand back into Harry's hand and sat down, picking up his newspaper again. Ginny made a snide comment about him that almost had Harry laughing.

Harry looked around for the sign that Tom had mentioned earlier. He found it on the wall beside a set of lifts. Level 10, courtrooms. Right, then. He managed to get into one of the lifts along with a stern-looking square-jawed woman in plum coloured robes with a W on her chest, a girl looking only two or three years out of Hogwarts, having bubble gum pink hair and looking very anxious. Beside her, with his hand on her shoulder was a man with long, dark grey hair and a face looking like it had been carved out of wood by a child who only had the faintest idea of how a human should look, but the most shocking was the man's eye, which swirled around and around, even into his own skull. It now looked at him.

"Going to the hearing, boy?" His voice was growling, as if he tried to be constantly threatening.

"Umm… yes, sir," Harry said.

That's Mad-Eye Moody, Ginny pointed out. Daddy says he's the best aurors in modern history; he's chucked loads of people into Azkaban.

"Best follow us, then, Potter; you wouldn't find it otherwise."

Harry hurried to flatten his hair over his scar, but then remembered and gave the sign on his chest a look of betrayal. The square-jawed woman and the girl with bubble gum hair stiffened when Moody spoke his name.

"Potter?" The woman turned him around by his shoulder as the lift began to drop, her eyes narrowing so her monocle dug into her eyebrow.

"Yes, madam. Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all. He is your godfather, isn't he? Black, I mean?"

Harry nodded.

The lift stopped at "Level nine, the Department of Mysteries", according to the female voice in the lift. A little confused, Harry decided to follow the others out; he had thought it would take them another level down, but instead the small group of four climbed down a flight of stairs to a corridor with rough stone walls and looking positively ancient with the burning torches and a large, grimy door with heavy locks, which was now standing ajar. On either side was an auror, nodding in recognition to Moody and the pink-haired girl, and a polite inclination of their heads to the stern woman.

"I trust you to find your own seat, then, Potter. Trainee Tonks, you and I will do the parametre of the room before the convicted arrives." Moody led the pink-haired girl away, and the stern-looking woman gave Harry a faint smile before she moved towards the seats in front of the chair placed in the middle of the courtroom. Chains were attached to the arms, and it looked rather uncomfortable. The courtroom itself was a dungeon; dark stonewalls that swallowed most of the light from the torches, most of the seats were empty, as it was still a good while until the trial would start. They rose in levels on either side of the chair in the middle of the room, but the section in front of it was even higher. The stern-looking witch had taken a seat there and was looking through some parchments presented to her by a wizard with straight, dark hair and face with skull-like appearance.

Harry set out to find his own seat, and found it near the bottom, on the right side of the chair. He sat down to wait.

I wonder if Fudge is going to be here, he said to Ginny, who was eating lunch with her family.

Me too.

The two of them discussed the prospects of the trial for nearly fifteen minutes before the courtroom was nearly full, and the doors were closing. Beside Harry the previously empty seat was now occupied by a light-haired man with streaks of premature grey, and several scars. He looked very nervous. To Harry he seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen him before. However, he had this odd sort of magic around him. It was a little similar to Professor McGonagall and Sirius, but not much. He was clearly not an Animagus, but he still had some sort of relationship to an animal. It was not linked to his own magic. It looked as though it was an infection. But with his lack of knowledge of magical diseases, Harry had no way in pointing out what sort of a infection it was.

When Harry turned he could spot the Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore further up and closer to the door. He was talking to Mad-Eye Moody, whose eye was spinning in its socket. There was the man who had sent him to stay at the horrible Dursleys, and each summer forced him to go back. There was the man who denied Harry's right to know why he was being headhunted by Voldemort, the man who wanted to Obliviate his darling Ginny. No, that was not going to happen as long as Harry had a say in it.

What is Dumbledore doing here? What's he got to do with Sirius' trial? Harry asked, outraged.

He's Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Harry, Ginny explained.

What? So he was in charge of those who condemned Sirius without a trial? Harry growled angrily, nearly snapping at a witch who politely excused herself on her way past him to her seat.

I'm afraid so.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry was washed with doubt.

What if he isn't freed? If they don't believe him? Harry asked anxiously, fidgeting in his chair.

Harry, they said they would use the Veridicus Stilla; it's as good as infallible, Ginny tried to assure him.

As good as? Not completely? Harry asked desperately.

That would only be because of a mistake by the potions master, and I really doubt the Ministry would use it in the case. I'm se they test it before using it on prisoners.

Harry fell silent, slightly at ease with her explanation, before another wave of doubt hit him; But what if he doesn't want me? What was I thinking, getting false hope? Why should he ever want me –

Oh, perhaps because you are a brilliant person, Harry, and you're his godson. Not to mention that you ensured him a trial, and possibly his freedom. He's probably already put the pieces together. Him admitting the whole story to you one evening, and his trial scheduled in the Daily Prophet the next morning.

Harry was about to reply when a smaller door at the far end of the chamber opened, and Sirius was led inside with two auror escorts. He was still wearing the same clothes Harry had seen him wear in Magnolia Crescent. His lively, grey eyes glided across the room and stopped at Harry. A small smile played across his face before he spotted the man beside Harry, and the smile widened. The man next to Harry gave Sirius a small nod and a beam in return.

When Sirius sat in the chair, the chains coiled themselves around his arms, keeping him firmly in place. He didn't look phazed, though; he had probably expected it.

"Right," said the dark-haired man beside the woman from the elevator. "The trial of Sirius Black, August 3rd, 1993 for him having, in full sanity and knowledge, killed twelve muggles and one wizard on November 1st 1981, for being a Death Eater, and for spilling knowledge about Mr. and Mrs. Potter's whereabouts to You-Know-Who." The wizard looked at Sirius. "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Sirius said, "you can check for the Dark Mark if you want to; it's not there."

The wizard exchanged a look with the stern-looking witch beside him, who nodded. "Thompson," he called to one of the Aurors, "lift his sleeves on both arms so we can see. Check for concealment charms."

A tall, thin auror with thick beard stepped over to Sirius and did what he was asked. Harry wasn't sure what they were looking for, and neither was Ginny, so they watched attentively, hoping for an explanation.

"No concealment charms, Mr. Crouch," Thompson said at last.

The dark-haired man, Mr. Crouch, nodded slowly. "Very well. The accused of this trial is asked to take the Veridicus Stilla. Mr. Black, do you accept?"

Sirius nodded. "I do."

A different wizard, wearing peach robes, stepped forward and fed a teaspoon of a steaming, purple potion to Sirius, who swallowed it and shuddered. His hands started trembling slightly, which Ginny assured Harry was a side effect of the potion. Occasionally, Sirius' body convulsed, and because of this, Harry was relieved to hear Mr. Crouch's next words.

"Let's make this quick, shall we?" He rustled with some parchment and began to read questions from a list. "Sirius Black, did you or did you not kill the twelve muggles November 1st 1981?"

"I-I did n-not." Sirius voice was shivering, as he was freezing cold.

"Who did?"

"Peter P-Pettigrew," Sirius managed with a trace of anger in his voice.

A murmur started to spread through the room, and Mr. Crouch frowned.

"Err… Peter Pettigrew is dead, Mr. Black. Witnesses saw you kill him."

Sirius snorted. "They only thought they saw me kill Pettigrew. He's an animagus, you see; a rat. He shouted at me, blaming me for betraying James and Lily, and then blew up the street before cutting off his finger, transformed into a rat and disappeared into the sewers."

The mutterings grew even louder, and a wizard from the audience even went so far as to shout "Rubbish!"

"The potion Mr. Black has taken has been fully tested, and is clear of any doubts, Mr. Rowle," the woman beside Mr. Crouch said dismissively. She then turned to Sirius again. "You say he blamed you for betraying Mr. and Mrs. Potter. You were their Secret Keeper, weren't you?"

"No," Sirius said, shivering even more fiercely. His teeth were starting to clatter. "Pettigrew was. We switched at the last m-minute; n-no-one knew. P-Peter was p-perceived as weak and c-cowardy. We n-never imagined h-him to be in allegiance with Voldemort," Sirius said. The room made a collective flinch, but Harry noticed that the scarred man beside him didn't even let a facial muscle twitch.

"So you're not a Death Eater, then?" Mr. Crouch asked, looking genuinely curious by now.

"No. N-N-Never. Nor will I ever i-in the future; Voldemort k-killed my b-best friend, didn't he? Almost killed my godson too, d-didn't he?" Sirius growled bitterly. His whole body was trembling, and his lips had turned to a pale blue colour.

"Where is Pettigrew now?"

"H-he's h-hiding with the W-Weasley f-f-family. They d-don't know it's h-him. I recognized P-Pettigrew on a photo f-from Eg-gypt," Sirius stuttered.

"I think we got the most important," Mr. Crouch said. "The antidote, please."

The wizard in peach robes hurried forward and gave Sirius a rather large dose of a bubbling, red potion, and only seconds after, he stopped shivering, and his lips returned to their normal colour.

"We will now make a verdict," Mr. Crouch looked around at his fellow Wizengamot members. "All of those in favour of release and compensation for Mr. Black?"

Harry's heart leaped with joy when he saw that nearly every Wizengamot member had their hand raised. The only exception was a short man with dark eyes and nearly bald head. He glared at Sirius with a hatred Harry thought impossible, even with the Dursleys.

"All those against?" Mr. Crouch asked. The man was alone in lifting his hand.

"Cleared of all charges! Mr. Black will be granted a good sum of money for compensation for the Wizengamot's ignorance and his time in Azkaban," Mr. Crouch said.

There was a lot of rustling as people stood. Harry only looked at Sirius, who was released from the chains. He looked ridiculously happy, and his eyes sought out Harry. Beaming, he beckoned him down to the fence separating the stands from the floor. Harry noticed the scarred man following, but he stopped far enough away from Harry and Sirius to show respect for their privacy.

"Am I right to think that you had a finger in this?" Sirius asked, a mischievous gleam to his eye.

Harry blushed. "Perhaps. I can't tell you how, though. Sorry."

"No matter!" Sirius grinned. "I want you to know that I'm extremely grateful for what you did. Perhaps we could meet under better circumstances than last time?"

"I'd like that," Harry said, wearing a silly grin on his face.

Sirius' eyes then moved to the man who had sat beside Harry during the trial. He smiled even wider, and the man bounded down, pulling Sirius into a fierce embrace.

"I'm sorry," Harry heard him mutter. "I'm so sorry I doubted you!"

"You're sorry?" Sirius barked, "I'm the one who should be sorry for suspecting you!"

"Don't worry; it's okay. I understand," the stranger said dismissively.

"No, it's not okay. It shouldn't be okay! Just because you're a – "

The stranger clamped his hand over Sirius' mouth before he managed to finish, and then shot a worried look in Harry's direction. Resignation appeared in Sirius' eyes, and the man removed his hand.

"Harry, this is mine and your father's true friend Remus Lupin," Sirius said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir," Harry told Mr. Lupin sincerely. With a pang he realized where he had seen the man before; he had caught a vague glimpse of his younger self in one of Sirius' memories.

"Likewise, Harry. You look so much like your father. He was an amazing man, and from what I've heard about you, you don't seem to measure up too badly," Mr. Lupin said with a smile.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Do you have a place to stay, Sirius?"

"I'm not putting a foot inside my family home, if that's what you're asking," Sirius said fiercely.

Harry wisely stayed quiet and watched them interact.

"Then come home with me. You sure look like you need a good bath and some food," Mr. Lupin teased.

"I think I will take you up on that offer," Sirius said and looked at Harry. "Will you be alright, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "I guess I better be going," he said as he saw other people approaching to greet Sirius. "I'll be in touch, Sirius," he promised.

Sirius beamed at him. "Stay safe from dangerous escaped convicts and large dogs, Harry!" he said cheerfully.

Harry smiled and left, hearing Mr. Lupin's soft mutter as he climbed the stairs to the exit: "He knows about Padfoot?"