I'm so sorry for the delay (again!) and I really hope some people are still sticking with this story although I understand if you aren't! I had a really rough semester which left me with almost no time to write, let alone do actual schoolwork. But here is Chapter 14! Please let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!

MINISTRY OF MAGIC - WIZENGAMOT COURTROOM

July 4, 1988.

The first thing that struck Sirius about the corridor leading to the courtroom was, of all things, the pattern on the floor. As he looked down at his feet and the shiny—too shiny—shoes he'd been given to wear for the trial, all he could think about was that the mosaic of tiled shapes reminded him an awful lot of the tapestry on the seventh floor of Hogwarts. It was a memory he didn't even realize he still had, and he felt a jab of familiarity somewhere deep in his gut. It was beginning to sink in that if he, Remus, and the lawyer—Merlin, if he could even qualify as that—couldn't pull this off, Sirius might never see Hogwarts, let alone the light of day, again.

"Just remember what we discussed, and read your statement word for word," came Portmanteau's voice in Sirius's ear. It sounded like a faraway echo, and it wasn't until Remus nudged Sirius in his side that Sirius snapped out of his trancelike state and nodded.

"Come on. The chamber's right through here."

The trio had reached a tall, heavy wooden door guarded by two sets of ancient-looking armor. The guards tailing the lawyer and his clients stood at attention while Portmanteau rapped his knuckles on it once, twice, thrice until it swung forward.

Immediately, Sirius doubled over; nearly fifty dementors were swirling high above the circular courtroom. Despite four different Patronuses stationed around the room and constantly pulsing their light upwards, Sirius could still feel dread and pain clawing at him and enveloping his body.

"Keep it together, Padfoot," Remus whispered and gripped Sirius's forearm tightly. He was afraid they might have a dementor presence…as if it wouldn't be hard enough to keep their wits about them already.

The high rows of chairs were teeming with Ministry officials, members of the Wizengamot, press, and even members of the Wizarding community who had bought their way in to watch what was shaping up to be the most talked about trial since Dilys the Deviant tortured six witches in broad daylight.

"You, there," ordered a very gruff-looking Auror. He pushed Remus and Sirius towards a table in the back of the courtroom. There was a singular armchair in the center of the vestibule; chains hung threateningly from its sides and Sirius felt his stomach sink even lower.

"Moony, I can't, not with dementors here," Sirius said once they were seated, his voice hardly above a croak. "Portmanteau," he said desperately, facing the lawyer. "Can't you have someone take them away? They—they get to me, even with the Patronus, please," Sirius begged.

Portmanteau shook his head. "I expect that's exactly why they're here in the first place."

Sirius set his jaw. "Moony—"

"I know," said Remus shortly. "We'll…it'll work out."

"You always were a bloody awful liar," Sirius said with a weak attempt at a laugh.

Portmanteau leaned in close for one last piece of guidance before the trial began.

"Minister Bagnold will be presiding today, they've just confirmed it."

"The Minister?!" Remus yelped. The Chief Warlock's chair was still vacant, and he had been wondering who would be presiding.

"She's fair. Tough, but fair."

"Fair? That bitch put me in Azkaban in the first place," Sirius growled; his knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the sides of his chair. Portmanteau blanched; apparently he hadn't considered that.

"Ah, yes, well—then she's familiar with your case, Mr. Black."

"Be glad it's not Minchum," Remus reminded Sirius. Bagnold's predecessor was as tough as they came; he'd increased the number of dementors in Azkaban and was all but married to the law.

"They've got all the evidence they could find," Portmanteau continued, "so they'll be looking for slip-ups on your part more than anything. And word has it the public's not all against you, only…only most of it."

"Comforting," said Remus dryly. Portmanteau wiped his brow with the sleeve of his robes.

"Just remember not to—"

"All rise," boomed a voice from the front, accompanied by the vicious crack of a gavel. Whatever Portmanteau wanted Sirius and Remus to remember was lost in the resounding screech of wood on wood as the hundreds of wizards and witches all rose from their seats.

Millicent Bagnold, the Minister of Magic, entered the room from a doorway at the back of the seating area and took her seat with all the poised power one might expect from the leader of the magical community. She shuffled a stack of parchment on the lectern in front of her, adjusted her bulbous hat, and after a disgruntled glance upwards at the horde of dementors, added her own Patronus to the mix. Remus heard Sirius let out a relieved sigh next to him; the added charm must have made somewhat of a difference.

With another crack that made Portmanteau jump, the crowd sat once more. Minister Bagnold cleared her throat.

"So it shall be that on this day, July the fourth, 1988, the Wizengamot shall conduct trials following offenses committed by Mr. Remus John Lupin and Mr. Sirius Orion Black. Interrogators are myself—Minister Millicent Bagnold—Senior Undersecretary to the Minister Harmony Burbage, and Harkin Pheasantsby of the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Ministry first calls Remus John Lupin."

With a deep breath, Remus stood and crossed the floor to sit in the chained armchair. Hesitantly, he sat, and immediately the chains bound him to the stiff cushions, though not so tightly that he couldn't move.

"The charges against the accused are as follows," Bagnold continued. "That Mr. Lupin knowingly aided and allied himself with an escaped criminal, and in doing so committed voluntary treason against the Ministry of Magic. Furthermore, that the accused, in full knowledge of his status as a werewolf, transformed in public, thereby endangering the surrounding community. Do you deny these charges?"

Remus's heart was pounding out of his chest, and it took him nearly a full ten seconds to collect himself. They'd agree that, risky though it was, they could build a more powerful defense if they pleaded not guilty—keep it simple, Portmanteau said. Honest and simple.

"It's not that simple," Remus said finally. "I did transform in, well I suppose you could call it public, but it was a designated area I've been traveling to for months ever since I left Hogwarts. I put up protective spells where I needed them, and the area was fifty miles from the nearest village."

Portmanteau raised a hand from the table and got to his feet. "Minister, my client's condition is not illegal, merely unfortunate. Mr. Lupin takes every necessary precaution with his monthly transformations and frankly, I don't see the relevance of these charges."

"Mr. Pheasantsby?" The Minister turned to the representative from the magical creatures department.

"Mr. Portmanteau is correct. While Mr. Lupin's lycanthropy can feasibly make him a danger to others, there is no evidence in this case that he was. Was anyone with you when you underwent this last transformation?"

Remus hesitated; technically, Sirius had accompanied him on the journey, but was never in his human form when the full moon was out. Nevertheless, Remus could not reveal that Sirius was an unregistered Animagus.

"No, sir," he said slowly. "There were no humans present at any time that I was, erm, not myself."

Pheasantsby nodded, looking satisfied, and to Remus's surprise, so did the Minister.

"Very well, the Wizengamot will deliberate. However, on the matter of Sirius Black—we have here written testimonies from Horatio Lutz of the Magical Corrections Office and Miriam Twill from the Visitation Department, who both confirmed that you sought out and were granted permission to visit Azkaban prison in March of this year. Shortly thereafter, Sirius Black escaped, and consequently, he was apprehended in your flat. Do you deny it?"

"No—I did help him. But only once he escaped!" The courtroom was buzzing, but Bagnold slammed her gavel and quiet reigned once more.

"Continue, Mr. Lupin. When did you first make contact with Sirius Black?"

"I was working my regular hours at Florean Fortescue's parlor when I thought I saw him out on the street. I followed him, and I let him stay with me in my flat."

"But that wasn't the first time you spoke with him since his arrest."

"Like you just said, I visited him in Azkaban a few months before that day in Diagon Alley. I was so angry, you see, at what happened the night James and Lily Potter died, that I wanted to see him suffering for his crimes."

"So you admit that he's guilty?"

"No!" Remus said frantically. "He escaped Azkaban, that much is true, but I didn't help him do it, and he isn't a criminal."

"And how do you know that?"

"You should have photo evidence," Remus said nervously. They'd been told the photo that Remus knew to be one of Peter in Godric's Hollow had been passed up the chain to be used in the trial. It was his and Sirius's only hope of a favorable verdict, but Minister Bagnold was riffling through her papers, looking confused.

"I have no pictures here."

"You—you don't? It's of a baby on a broomstick, Harry Potter, when he was just an infant!"

"Silence!" Bagnold shouted—the crowd had erupted into excited chatter at the mention of Harry's name. "If the defendant has no further argument, the Wizengamot calls its first witness, Mary Emerson Macdonald, to the stand."

Remus felt immediately dizzy. "Mary?" he said in horror as a door opened to his right and Mary stepped out onto the floor.

He hadn't seen nor heard from Mary since she stopped by his holding cell. The last words she'd said to him rang in his head like a warning bell, clanging against the insides of his head. I think all along I might have been a little bit in love with you. He could only watch in painful suspense as the Minister addressed Mary, who refused to even look over at where Remus was bound to his seat.

"Ms. Macdonald, tell us what happened on July 1."

Merlin, had it only been three days? Remus was shocked; it seemed like a lifetime ago that he and Sirius were on their way back from the highlands. Remus had been so livid with Sirius for Apparating to Privet Drive…if only he'd known that that may very well have been their last day of freedom together. Mary drew a shaky breath and began to recount the events of the day the Aurors came to Remus's apartment. He was nearly shaking with anger; she'd given them up with a snap of her fingers. If she truly loved him like she claimed she did, why would she do such a thing?

"I value my friends," she said weakly; she was finishing up her statement. "But I value the community, too. I just think with the way it's been torn apart since the war, I'm obligated to do whatever I need to in order to piece it back together. James and Lily Potter were my friends too, and helping make sure there's justice for them…that's what matters in the end. I knew Remus was hiding Black in his flat—I saw him there with my own eyes. As much as it hurt to do it, I alerted the Auror Office and helped lead them to where I knew they would be. I'm sorry," she added after a pause, but since she was still looking straight ahead, he couldn't be sure if it was meant for him.

"Minister," Mary continued with a sudden coldness in her voice, "I know Sirius Black is guilty. I know it as well as I know the halls of Hogwarts, where we all went to school together. Just look at his family history; he's as pureblood as they come and he's no doubt got the mentality to go along. He was just good at covering it up, just like he tried to cover up murdering Peter Pettigrew by blowing him up. Just because none of us saw it coming doesn't make his crimes false. It just makes them worse."

"Thank you," Bagnold said. "If the defense has no further questions, you may leave the stand."

"I do have one question, actually," Portmanteau said. "Ms. Macdonald, did you or did you not lend Mr. Lupin the money to make his visit to Azkaban in the first place?"

Mary's eyes grew to the size of saucers as they darted back and forth from Portmanteau to the minister, who had raised her eyebrows so high they almost disappeared under her hair. The confrontation rendered Mary unable to speak.

"Ms. Macdonald?"

Still, she said nothing.

"Mary," Remus finally croaked, and she almost looked at him.

"I—yes, I lent him the money. But I thought he was going to get closure!" she added quickly. "If I'd known he was going to help Black escape, I wouldn't have given him a single knut, I promise!"

It sounded like every single member of the Wizengamot was scribbling notes madly on their scrolls of parchment, and out of the corner of his eye Remus could see a bright green quill zipping back and forth of its own accord as it wrote everything that Mary had said down onto a scroll of parchment that was floating in the air next to a very young, blonde reporter.

"Let the record show that this witness acknowledges funding Mr. Lupin's visit with Mr. Black, and should hereby be considered an accessory to the very things she is condemning my clients for. I consider her intentions unclear and I urge the Wizengamot to exercise caution when choosing whether or not to believe her testimony. That is all," Portmanteau said.

"Very well. Ms. Macdonald, you may leave the stand. The Wizengamot calls Sirius Black forward."

Before Remus could open his mouth to say something as Mary barreled past him, the chains relinquished their hold on him and he was forced to return to the table as Sirius got up for his turn to testify.

Sirius felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach as he stared the Minister in the face. As he did, the murmurs in the chamber faded away until all he was aware of was her piercing stare meeting his own. The last time he'd seen the Minister, it had been the day the lock clicked shut on his cell in Azkaban, and he had no intentions of letting her decide his fate a second time. He walked as calmly as he could to the center of the room, but silently refused to sit. Bagnold seemed to realize this, and perhaps against her better judgment, she held up a hand to stop the guards from forcing Sirius down.

"Opening remarks?" she asked him curtly; she gave him even less respect than she did Remus.

Sirius gulped, then took a slow breath and called on every bit of nerve he had left.

"I want to start by confessing to what I am guilty of, and that is that I did break out of Azkaban, otherwise I wouldn't be here. You don't need a whole damn trial to figure that one out."

"Easy, Pads," Remus whispered under his breath back at the table.

"And I admit I did it alone. Rem—Mr. Lupin had nothing to do with that, so don't even think about convicting him," Sirius finished sharply.

The Minister nodded and scribbled something with her quill. "Very well," she said, "If you confess to escaping alone—"

"I do."

"—Then we will drop those charges against Mr. Lupin, but the fact remains that he did help you after your escape, and for that the jury will still deliberate. Now, Mr. Black, your charges. The charges against the accused are as follows—"

"That I murdered twelve Muggles in cold blood?" Sirius interrupted, without breaking his gaze. His voice was level, cold. The room fell deadly silent, as if the people there were afraid he'd kill them too if they made even a peep. "That Peter Pettigrew's dead because I blew him to pieces, right?"

Minister Bagnold set down her parchment.

"It appears the defendant is fully aware of his crimes," she said testily.

"I'm all too aware of the crimes. But they aren't mine." Sirius resisted the urge to add that he wished he'd killed Peter.

"Do you have any evidence to present to the Wizengamot?"

"No," Sirius said. "All I can give you is my word, but you knew that already. There's no physical proof I'm innocent, none you cared to obtain, anyway—that's why you could just chuck me into a cell when it happened, because you thought the only other suspect was dead. Guilty until proven innocent, is that the way you run things now?"

The undersecretary spoke up.

"We have sufficient proof that Peter Pettigrew died of wounds inflicted on October the 31st, 1981," she said.

"Oh, do you?" Sirius asked, feigning interest. "What, his finger? One single finger? Yes, I'm sure you've got it all wrapped up with a nice little bow, somewhere down in the archives. Tell me, how does that prove anything other than that he can only count to nine on his hands? I know there's no proof that I'm not a murderer. But there's no proof that I am, either."

Bagnold was staring at Sirius intently, one hand clenching her wand tightly. She glanced to her left and right and Remus saw several members of the Wizengamot nod towards her in some silent agreement.

"The Wizengamot calls Augustus Justemesus Portmanteau forward."

Portmanteau waddled forward and stood up straight. "With permission, I'd like to ask the Wizengamot and my client a few questions."

"Granted."

"Minister, on October 31, 1981, the Auror Office dispatched nine Aurors to the scene of the crime in question, correct? Did any of them recover the body of Peter Pettigrew?"

The Minister pursed her lips. "They did not. Only those of the Muggles."

"And did any Auror recover the wand of either Peter Pettigrew or Sirius Black?"

"Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt seized Black's wand immediately upon arrival, and it was later destroyed on my orders. Pettigrew's was nowhere to be found and was assumed to have been destroyed by Black's curse."

"I see. Minister Bagnold—can you tell me the purpose of the spell 'Priori Incantatem?' I think all of us here know that it is commonly used in cases of magical crime to identify perpetrators, but can you tell me exactly what this spell does?"

"Objection—relevance," called out one of the Wizengamot, but Bagnold held up a hand and allowed the question.

"Priori Incantatem is used to reveal the last act a witch or wizard performed with their wand; any witch or wizard above the O.W.L. level knows this. Though I must agree with my colleague; what is the purpose of this question?"

Portmanteau ignored her.

"Mr. Black," He addressed Sirius, who was still standing, "At what point during the process of your incarceration did a Ministry official, guard or otherwise, perform this spell on your wand?"

"They didn't," Sirius said through clenched teeth, his eyes still fixed on the Minister. "I haven't seen my wand in seven years, Minister, not since it was taken from me that night."

Portmanteau then turned to address the rest of the Wizengamot.

"How, I wonder, can anyone say definitively that Mr. Black cast the curse that blew apart that street if no one took the time to gather the most concrete—and, might I add, the easiest—method of confirmation—his wand?"

No one offered a response.

"Oi, Black was laughin' when they got to 'im!" One wizard then said from the public's section. "'Oo would laugh at somethin' like that if they weren't the one who done it?"

"And Pettigrew was nowhere to be found!" a witch with a very shrill voice added.

A chorus of assent rose from the seats, and Sirius winced as he heard a few people shouting things like "arrest the bastard!" and "give him the Kiss!" He was losing, he knew it. If he couldn't convince a majority of the jurors soon, he and Remus were both done for.

"I'd like to say something else," Sirius said quietly after another moment. This was the part he had been dreading: his statement. The minister nodded and Sirius cast a sweeping glance across the courtroom before speaking.

"I first met James Potter when we were 11. We sat in compartment seven on the Hogwarts Express and we were best friends before we even passed through Cambridge. He was the first person I ever knew that I never had to worry about, and he was the first person I never had to fear. We were right arses at school—I see a couple of you who I know went to Hogwarts same time as me, you know we were. At the end of seventh year, I had three best friends, one of them was James, the other is sitting right back there," he nodded towards Remus, "and the third was Peter Pettigrew. We all found out at about the same time that James and Lily were—" he paused, feeling a bit sick as he formed his next words, "—were slated for murder. So they hid. And only me and Dumbledore knew where."

Sirius paused again to let the crowd work through what he'd just said.

"I know that doesn't help my case. If anything, it makes me look more guilty, because you all know the story and someone, someone, gave them up to Voldemort." The inevitable gasp that always accompanied You-Know-Who's name rang through the room, which was exactly what Sirius wanted.

"That's right, I say his name. Voldemort killed my best friend, James Potter, and his wife, Lily. He almost killed their baby boy, and yet I still say his name because I will not give him the satisfaction of scaring me into submission. I won't now, and I wouldn't then. He took everything from me the night he killed them. I was 22, and I had just walked into my best friend's house to find his body, and his crying child, and I knew it was the fault of someone we all trusted that it had happened in the first place. Peter Pettigrew."

Sirius paused again, this time to control the angry shake in his voice.

"He sold them to Voldemort, only Peter never had the courage to even say that name. He, like many of you, had a lot at stake. His family. His reputation that he'd somehow built with Voldemort. His life. I know what you're thinking—who's the murderer, the boy with a whole life to lose or the one who had nothing left to live for? I seem like the obvious choice, don't I? But it wasn't me that ran away to save his own arse that night. He ran, looking for any semblance of protection and safety after Voldemort's downfall. All the Death Eaters did; if I'm one of them, why didn't I hide? If I'm a Death Eater," Sirius said as he rolled up both his sleeves, "where's my Dark Mark? If I really were guilty, I would have run too, and I'd have to take that goddamn brand with me every step of the way."

The crowd was so silent Remus swore he'd be able to hear a pin drop.

"The guilt I live with is not murder. My crime is idiocy, nothing more. I convinced James and Lily to let Peter into the most crucially private parts of their lives, and he took advantage of that and betrayed them. I didn't kill Peter," Sirius said with finality, "but he deserves to die for what he did."

The room exploded with noise after Sirius nodded to indicate he was finished, and he could feel the crack of the gavel in his bones as Bagnold rapped it against the desk once more until the crowd settled down. He waited with bated breath as she rubbed her temples before finally speaking.

"You said that you found James and Lily after they were killed in their home."

"Yes," Sirius said thickly. "I had a gut feeling something was wrong that night, so I went to Godric's Hollow, but—" It was too late, he finished in his head. He couldn't say it out loud.

Bagnold sighed.

"Compelling though your testimony is, Mr. Black, the fact remains that you have no one who can confirm they saw you anywhere except at the scene of the crime, and the only other man you say could have committed the atrocity which you were imprisoned for is dead."

"He's not dead!" Sirius roared, then shouted in pain as one of the chains on the chair actually lashed out at him and wrapped itself around his wrist.

"Which, despite your insistence, you cannot actually prove!" Bagnold said loudly. "Unless you can present a witness, this case is closed."

On cue, the guards stationed around the courtroom descended on Sirius, who tried his best to stay free of their grasp until the gripped him too tightly for him to fight back, let alone budge. Remus had also leapt to his feet and made to charge forward.

"Protego!" Portmanteau yelled, and Remus bounced off the shield that had sprung up between him and Sirius.

"Move!" Remus roared at the lawyer as he tried to break through the barrier, but Portmanteau stood his ground; a brawl would not help their chances.

"PLEASE!" Sirius cried at the Minister, who was already packing up her things. A moment later and she and the others would leave—taking their Patronuses with them. "He's not dead, I swear it! I'll drink Veritaserum, you can have my memories, anything!"

"I don't think that will be necessary." The new voice was calm, but it commanded silence from the room. Remus whipped his head around to look at who had just entered, hardly daring to believe it.

Slowly, as if they were all stuck in slow motion, everybody returned to their seats as Albus Dumbledore strode across the floor.

HOPE YOU LIKED IT! Please review if you did (or didn't!). I'm aiming to have chapter 15 up this weekend :)

-C