I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.

The Trial of Sirius Black

By Bart Newman

It seems there has been a grave injustice. Lord Sirius Black(Lordship Pending) has been denied a trial.

That is right, Ladies and Gentlemen. Sirius Black, long thought betrayer of James and Lily Potter, War Heroes, is believed innocent. It comes as a shock to all, especially as the man is from the Ancient and Noble House of Black, long thought to be untouchable from his predecessor, Arcturus Black.

It seems, according to our sources, that Lord Black was never given a trial, due to the many errors and confusion occurring at the end of the war. Lord Crouch admitted that he had thought Lord Black had confessed, and thus need not waste time.

Once Black is found, he shall be taken into custody and to be given an immediate trial, with the Kiss-On-Sight order removed. We can only imagine how terrible this must be for the young Harry Potter, to whom Black is the Godson of. As Mr Potter was in school and Chief Warlock Dumbledore denied the ability to interrupt him, we can only speculate.

None were available for statement.

Turn to Page 2 for The Life of Sirius Black

Turn to Page 4 for the Tale of James and Lily Potter

Turn to Page 6 for All Information currently known about Harry Potter

Harry flipped over to the relevant pages, and found them quite sparse. Even his own was lacking in succinct information, instead describing how he was Muggle-Raised and that the many stories believed true were lies. While Dumbledore had attempted to quell the various rumours, he was no omnipotent, and thus could not stop everything. He didn't blame the old man, but it was annoying.

He put down the paper and went to his food, he'd need it today. Sirius was supposed to appear for his trial, and he was beyond nervous, as this could very well prove the moment he left the Dursleys forever, and moved in with a new father figure. For now, he fed Erebus some bacon, Hedwig chose his toast, and Nyx was in his lap, purring.

While he'd barely started on the journals of the founders, as he'd gotten quite distracted, he knew he had to. The issue was, on one of his visits to find some crystals, he'd visited the secret room and found a special Transfiguration textbook created by Gryffindor himself. Whereas Animagus was a rare skill that typically only the most advanced Transfiguration masters accomplished, during his time the act had been more of a parlor trick, big and fascinating, but easily accomplished with the right information. Each of the founders had transformed into the animals on their crests, which explained why Ravenclaw chose an Eagle, and Gryffindor chose a Lion.

His method was his natural form, the creature his most significant line connected to, the birds, but he didn't have the one that best represented his personality. He did note that his best-bonded line was Ravenclaw, though he suspected it would change, as Natural Animagus were prone to, when he claimed all his Lordships and found the one he preferred. McGonagall had not had a chance, as she only had one. He pondered silently if she fully realised what her cat form actually meant.

Finally he got up, heading to Flitwick's office. There, he'd use the floo to the ministry with Severus, Filius, and Minerva joining him. The afternoon teas with the Transfiguration Mistress had proven especially fruitful and enlightening, he had learned much of his parents. Thankfully, after only one request, she had decided to show them in a light that was a bit more objective.

His father was something of a bully. Though McGonagal herself admitted that he was not always in the wrong, and their typical targets were those who attacked the younger Gryffindors. Namely, older Slytherins. It was through this he learned of the rivalry between Severus and his father, though clearly the man had let go. While she claimed he simply didn't blame his father, his Uncle came across as someone who would hold a grudge forever. He was thankful the man did not, though, as it gave him more family.

His Uncle had also been somewhat unpleasant, even if he didn't always mean to be. He had joined with the wrong people, as did his father, which exacerbated his more cruel tendencies. Thankfully, those they chose to be friends with, or at least those his father was friends with, grew up along with them, though she claimed Sirius Black was and always will be a child, yet had still expressed some fondness for the man, hoping he would be found innocent.

Lily Evans had been the exact opposite, meeting and hanging out with the right people, which made her far more kind. When questioned, McGonagall refused to budge that his parents had been practically rivals up to sixth year, and began dating in their seventh. While it was aggravating, he also understood. After all, who wants to hear their father was 'Weak'? Though, Harry also knew the man had just done what he could, under the stories he was told. It was a bit disappointing the seemingly intelligent man had believed the Blood Curse was real.

Suddenly, the floo chimed and he entered the fireplace, calling out 'The Ministry of Magic' as clearly as he could. Grabbing the edges of brick, he just about prevented a rough tumble into Trip and Tom. Knowing his experiences, the two had waited for him, and he was thankful, though not a little annoyed at the fact he always seemed to do that, and it had not gone unnoticed. Now though, was not the time to mess up.

Clutching the piece of paper in his pocket, the Ravenclaw steadied his racing heart and upset stomach, carefully following them as he glanced around the ministry. The ebony brick was beautiful, almost like marble, with silver inlays he suspected were decoration. The black floor led out into a wide room, as he'd chosen to miss the view of the gallery onto the statue. Now was not the time for idle fascinations.

Sitting on the audience's bench, which was a strong, blue-painted Oak, he looked out on the seats in front of him. He'd not yet visited the Lord's Hall, where the Wizengamot sat, and matched the Muggles House of Lords quite well, but he expected it would be soon. His Fifteenth year was nearly upon him, and that was when he was expected to officially take up his seat. Technically he could now, but it was probably a bad idea. The stuffy old men probably wouldn't be able to take him seriously.

The Trial was a full one for such a high-profile case, and Erebus, who'd come in with Tom, was barking loudly and happily near the floor, though it puzzled him why. Each seat was carefully crafted dark marble, which almost, almost, matched the walls. Each had an emblem carved onto the backs, the Coat of Arms of each house. He smirked as others were mystified by the appearance of Poterimus, Black, and Hogwarts. After all, it was common knowledge Black had been disowned. That didn't mean he couldn't name an heir to the family, though.

Eventually, the seats were taken and the Trial was called to order. He only half-payed attention, seeing as it would only really get interesting once Black appeared. Speaking of which, shouldn't he be manacled to the center seat by now? Something was off… Especially when they called for him to appear, and what happened truly shocked him.

Erebus, HIS Erebus, walked to the center and transformed into a very rough-looking man, with slightly sharp canines, and fluffy hair. His robes were torn in several places, and dirt caked his entire body as his shoeless feet left trails of mud not unlike that of his dog form. His pet had turned into a human! What the Hell was the world coming to nowadays?

Now he sat up to listen, as his friends tapped his arm on either side. Draconus was here, sitting at the far side by his father. It was quite often a Lord took his or her heir to a meeting so as to learn the trade they would eventually take up, or so he had read. While Draconus had groaned and moaned about it, Harry secretly knew the boy was excited about the experience. There was a gleam in his eye that just wouldn't go away, and made him want to strangle his friend.

'Lord Sirius Black, We shall-' Dumbldore was interrupted. As Chief Warlock, the man presided over anything that needed the Wizengamot. Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, ran the smaller trials.

'Actually, I'm not a Lord. I was disowned by my family. As such, the proper missive is Sir, seeing as despite the disowning, I am technically of the House of Black, which as an Ancient and Noble House, makes me a Knight.' There were murmurs and mutterings, as Harry cringed internally. There were few alive with Black Blood, and even fewer who could claim a connection to the title. As a Patriarchal family, it went to a male. Sirius, despite being of the main line, was ineligible now, and his brother was dead. As such, it went to the oldest branch of the family, which happened to be Arcturus's sister, Dorea, since all the others had been wiped out in the Troll War. If it got out, despite the Poterimus and Black's well-kept secrets, someone would eventually figure out it was him. This was bad.

Though he was right about the 'Sir' part. Sirius had Black blood, which due to the Blood Pact, made in the 200's, led him to receive the benefits of it, to ensure the family didn't die out, even if none of it's members could ever actually take Headship for another 2000 years. The title carried with it a Counthood, and as applied to all the 30 families, as decreed by King Arthur the Sixth, meant any members would automatically receive knighthood, though that meant should England ever get into a war, they had to participate. Soon after the man had died, they'd officially split off from Muggle Britain and became their own country, his children leading the divide. That meant the current Queen and Heirs of the Royal family held Pendragon blood, though it solely meant they would be a Duke, the same as Delirius Dashwood, should one be born magical.

There used to be 30 Kingdoms all across the continent, which are each of the Ancient Pureblood families, coincidentally. Gryffindor had Wales, Slytherin, England, Ravenclaw, Finland, and Hufflepuff, Poland. Each Ruler was decided by his/her magic, as originally there had been only 30 Wizards and Witches in all of Europe, sometime after the Dark War. Longbottom ruled over Scotland, Lestrange presided over France, while Poterimus got Ireland. Malfoy had been an offshoot of Lestrange, and The Dashwood family technically had Poterimus blood in them.

The Shadeslayer family had been the High King/Queens, since they had given away Norway to the Greengrasses, who had come from the second son of Lord Smedry, and he had wished to make a name for himself. Since they had always been the most unselfish family, the others had allowed them to become so, thus giving them power beyond imagination. That one had eventually bred the Peverell and Emrys lines, Emrys continuing their rule while Peverell chose to become the most famous family of Scholars ever. Peverells had become an Archduke family instead, because of that. There were quite a few families who now held titles, Longbourne, DeCourcey, East, North, even Rushworth. Though the ratio of Ancient Families to subjects was now a gap so wide you couldn't jump it with a motorbike at top speed.

History had begun fascinating him more and more nowadays, and he often went over it in his mind when he was especially bored, but it was not something he was seeking to pursue as a career. He suspected when he eventually took on the Peverell title and found their home, there would be enough research you couldn't learn it all in a Century, if Voldemort hadn't already burned it all down. He turned to the trial, which was now reaching it's apex.

'Sir Sirius Black, were you ever a Death Eater?' It seemed they had administered Veritaserum while he was distracted, despite the law saying it was prohibited on a Pureblood. The man must have requested it.

'No.' His monotonous tone was slightly strange.

'Did you help the Dark Lord Voldemort kill Lily and James Potter or Poterimus?' You needed to be exact with the questioning, as otherwise they could be avoided. It's one reason why questioning a Pureblood under veritaserum nowadays was nearly pointless; you didn't have the time to come up with the right line of questions or their exact form, allowing the subject to avoid the truth. Most of them had been trained in the art of manipulation since they were in nappies. Since Sirius was a willing participant, and Duchess Bones had been especially perceptive, none questioned it.

Oh yes, all the Old Kings and Queens of the past had become Dukes, Marquess, or Earls, in that order. It depended on the people's opinions. All the families had fled to Britain, which for the Magical side included all of Ireland, when they'd been overthrown. While not officially, many chose to abdicate and leave, with a diminishing power. Even though he is technically the King of Ireland, he ignored the title.

'No.'

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew and the surrounding area, including the Muggles?'

'No.' At this point, the trial was over, there was no more evidence truly against him. Someone might try some trumped up charge he escaped from Azkaban, but as only Amelia, as Head of the DMLE, could actually charge someone with a crime, it would be rendered pointless as he was never actually tried, and he couldn't be held accountable for that. There had been no official verdict on Sirius's punishment, as such he got away scot-free on a technicality.

'Vote now for whether he is guilty.' Everyone began writing down their votes, which had appeared and thus disappeared, in a flash of blue light. Dramatization, it was simply house-elves.

'Sirius Black is found Not Guilty by favour of 140, and as such will be released from charges and released into the custody of Lord Black.' It was an attempt to discover his identity, since as an adult man who was disowned, Lord Black no longer represented him in any capacity. Unlike the main members, Sirisu could actually have his Knighthood taken away, though only by The Sovereign of England. Again, technically him.

When nobody appeared, his cousin, Andromeda, moved down to take him. As none could argue, and all knew it was a Patriarchal house, the crowd dispersed, the Wizengamot moving to the main chambers to continue the meeting, Judicial areas done with. He moved to leave, taking his friends with him, as Sirius caught up with them. He smirked at the man, who gave a wide grin back.

'Hello, Harry. I… hm… I know you must get this a lot, but you look a lot like your father. Except you have your mothers eyes.' Few had ever actually said it, and as he looked at the pictures of his parents, he found himself disagreeing more and more. His features mirrored those of his Grandmother more than his father, really, though he did admit he had his mother's eyes. But he let it slide, the man was likely blinded by his newfound Freedom to pay too much attention.

'So I've been told. Why don't we go to a portkey, they'll land us right in front of Fortescue's, and I figure you need to sit down and eat some ice cream as quickly as possible. It was really a cover up; He despised the Floo, and Portkeys, while unpleasant, would at least have soft bodies to land on, instead of a wood floor to smash your face into.

They moved over to the section where they were under heavy wards, as Tom, Harry, and Trip took one, whereas Sirius, Andromeda, and Neville took another. The boy had been dragged by his Grandmother, and came over to walk with them at the first available opportunity. He'd barely given him a passing glance during that time.

Grabbing the coin of wood, which had already been pre-set with their destination, he waited a minute before a tug in his stomach was felt and he began spinning in circles. It almost made him puke as they were swirling in the air. Suddenly, everything felt off as the ride took far longer than it should have. Dread creeped down his back, cold fingers trailing down his spine as he shivered.

They landed on a wooden floor, and were quickly incarcerated, the others stunned as it all seemed to happen in a moment. Where were they?

The answer became clear as robed figures began coming in, and he suspected at least three were behind him, as a dark shadow appeared. He began grunting, muffled through the rope which held his mouth as he began to fear for his and his friends lives. It was all futile, of course, seeing as his wand was in it's holster and he couldn't flick his wrist to allow the magic to release it, unleashing his power.

Slowly the figure appeared, carrying a small bundle in his arms Harry couldn't make out, but was startled when a voice began to speak. It was as if coming from all of them and none of them at the same time, high and cold, cruelty evident.

'Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Brought here solely by a simple compulsion charm.' The Ravenclaw cocked his head. His occlumency charms hadn't picked up on that, so it seemed the timing was a mere coincidence. Annoying.

'I know you want to become stronger. To protect your family. I can help you do that. Release him!' Suddenly, the ropes fell away as he tumbled to the floor, wrist moving almost unnoticeably as he grasped the paper in his pocket for hope.

'Ah yes. It seems you will not be tempted by mere power, but what if I told you I had a way to void the contract, protect your fortunes and keep her protections on.' Harry's eyes widened. How did he…?

It didn't matter. The only reason he even kept his magic, after all he'd lived eleven years practically without it, was so Daphne would be protected. She was a young. beautiful, vulnerable Noble Heiress, a prime target for those seeking to trap her in a loveless marriage, to gain status. As a magical girl, her magic naturally protected her virginity until she chose, so that was of no concern.

'Tell me.' He begged. A family made with those he loved was all he desired, and he didn't know whether he could ever truly love her. As a friend, surely, but it would likely never be more.

'Give me your word you will listen. That you will come when I call, and learn from myself.' It was almost certainly a trap, but if this managed to get Daphne into a marriage with one she loved, the benefits severely outweigh the consequences.

'Swear to me a Magical Oath.' Unbreakable, and would cost the person giving it their life if it was falsified, they were rarely used nowadays, and as such few knew of them.

'I swear to you I can break your contract with Daphne Greengrass whilst also keeping the protection to your fortunes, and preventing her from being trapped in any marriage contract she did not consent to explicitly knowing the nature of the contract..' of course, that last part technically always applied, but he couldn't afford to take risks. Others could disguise it as something else. But this way, the man could somehow use magic to prevent such events from occurring.

'Then I shall do as you request. I will not swear an oath though, seeing as how that would be far too risky on both sides.' The figure seemed to agree, as they remained silent. Suddenly, a wave of magic passed over him, and he felt his responsibility to the contract break. He pulled the parchment out, and the letters changed, to instead display that it was merely a way to prevent their fortunes from being robbed, and the only extra clauses being that each could choose whom they married, so long as they are aware of the nature of the events occurring.

He smirked. It was perfect. While he did not speak perfect legalese, it was enough to fully comprehend everything. The figure had done as he'd promised. So Harry would do his. Taking the rope offered, he grabbed his friends.

'They will awaken with no memory in the exact spot you were meant to. Keep the rope, it will take you to me whenever I call. Do not worry, it shall not be during classes, but you will most certainly appear when I call, I do not want my fresh new apprentice to die.' The cold smile sent shivers down his back, even if he couldn't see it, he could feel it. They left the room, and appeared at Fortescues. What a day.

The meeting with Sirius and Andromeda had gone well, and he would be staying at Black Manor, somewhere off in Spain, where they had once ruled at the end of the summer. He was looking forward to it, and knew the portkey he kept at his side would take him to and from. So far, he'd yet to be called, but he had a feeling when he was, it would not be fun. The figure had not struck him as someone to be crossed, and a slave driver too. He sat at his desk, carefully opening a page from Slytherin, on Parselmagic.

Truly, one of the World's greatest achievements. Parselmagic is a gift truly from Merlin, whether Legend is truth or false. It is unique in that it is one of the few branches of speaking magic given by the man that allows us to use magic in tandem with it. That fact has saved me in many a duel. Helga's own Badgerspeak has proven fruitful as well, though coincidentally it leaned more towards Yellow Magic, whereas mine is drawn towards that of the Purple.

It's trickiness lies not in speaking the language, for all one must do is envision a snake to achieve such a thing, but putting power in the words. Each one must be fraught with so much willpower and meaning, they cannot be denied, and magic itself will bend to your will to make it so. It is not so much a form of magic itself, but merely a way to command it directly, unlike the common form that has been imbibed with the power, and our whispers are simply ways of us concentrating our own magic. It is quite difficult to explain, as unless you feel it yourself you cannot truly understand, but I promise you it is invigorating! I even theorize it could lead to more Blood Traits, since it lies in that realm.

So my Heir, before I leave you, please heed my words. Do not attempt to subdue magic, command it with your natural ones. It is foolish, for only the 3 Languages may do that. Simply channel your own, allowing it to become the changes you wish. The channeling and power gain from such actions will be remarkable. Though admittedly it is simply preventing you from forcing more out, rather than growing your power directly. Listen, and watch. They are important.

That was when the door slammed open.

'Hadrian Poterimus! What have you done with our contract!?' Daphne's face was scrunched up in a way Harry found slightly cute.

'I allowed you to choose your own Husband. All he must do is sign on that line.' She stomped over, and Harry began to fear for his life. Did she honestly love him? She was only fourteen, and he himself thirteen!

'I don't care. Sign, now.' If he did, the change would be sealed in magic, and his own would apply. The difference was, since it was a broken one repaired, magic would require him to have multiple wives, as their children could no longer take his titles separately, solidifying it as a Potter contract, not as a union between the two teens.. Something that sickened him. Thankfully though, this was much more like a Muggle contract, in that it wouldn't affect them directly with magic and make them like each other, and this time it wouldn't be unbreakable, as he hadn't wanted Daphne forced into that again. Also part of the reason it could not affect them.

'But you realise-' He was cut off mid-sentence as she grabbed his hand, forced the quill in his palm and made him tap the paper. He sighed. She would never physically hurt him, that was not love, and even a slap in the wrong mood should be taken as a sign of needing to exit a relationship, but she could be quite authoritative. Though as he reflected, he would obviously have more qualms about it than her. She had been raised in a household where your last name was important, and would likely have been taken as a second wife to prevent Astoria from suffering that fate, thus resigning herself to that possibility.

'I. Said. Sign. Otherwise, my family will make Draconus, disgusting Flint, or some other nasty man sign it instead, then take it and hide the damn thing so I couldn't rip it to shreds. And I know Draco would prefer to marry my sister.' He noticed she already put her name down, and realized she was right. She'd done this on purpose.

His efforts had been wasted, it seemed. And now, he would be forced to marry another female, lest he lose his magic, and as such Daphne lose hers. This was so messed up. The primordial force was both a blessing and a curse, it seems. But he knew she was aware of the consequences and new requirements if he did this. Even more messed up, magic wouldn't allow a female to take more than one Lover, their husband. What a screwed up world.

Scribbling his name down, a flash a blue light signalled it was accepted, and Daphne left. Blowing out his candle, he wearily lied back in bed, pulling up the covers as Hedwig softly sang him goodnight. The Future, it seems, would be truly strange.

End of Year 3

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