Chapter XIII - Finally Things Are Changing

Waking up this morning, he had been met with not only his awesome view outside, but with a sense of excitement. He was ready in an instant, his clothing on, his breath fresh and his hair as neat as it could be, and soon he was downstairs in the Freeman's house waiting on the arrival of his best friend as they prepared to leave for the Leaky Cauldron, where they'd use the floo system to floo to the Ministry of Magic for the trial he had been dreaming of for months.

Dreaming, because there was a time when he believed fully that the only way Sirius would get a trial was if he dreamed of it. He could almost hop in excitement as he sat down on the couch in the living room wondering why Hermione was taking so long to get ready.

He wasn't only waiting on her, though, as the Granger parents would be the ones who'd be taking them to the Leaky Cauldron, making it more believable to Mrs. Freeman that they were just going shopping.

Hermione had been as excited as he was, squealing as she threw her hands around him, excited as the prospect that Sirius would finally be a free man. The trial hadn't happened as yet but he already knew that Sirius would be proven innocent as everything else – any other possibility – seemed too illogical to even think about.

He knew that the Wizarding World could be backwards many times, as they were so much different than the muggle world and the muggles systems and administration he had grown up in – but they simply couldn't be so dense that they didn't accept their testimonies and Sirius' confession that he wasn't responsible for the crimes placed under his name.

Hermione had explained to him the wonderful potion that would help them free Sirius in today's trial. A potion that had become his favourite as soon as he heard of it – the truth serum.

After Hermione's explanation of the potion, that was overly extensive as usual and as he admired, he understood that the truth serum was a potion that forced the individual who drank it to speak the truth about anything and everything that has been asked to him or her.

Sirius would definitely be free after today's trial, but there was still a problem Harry could think of, one he was too ashamed to bring up to anyone else – even Hermione.

While he loved Sirius and loved that there was now the possibility that he could spend the summers with him and not at the Dursleys, he wanted to spend the rest of his Christmas with the Grangers.

He really did, for his time here was the absolute best and he didn't want it to end. He felt that Sirius would think that him not wanting to spend Christmas with him when he was free again, would mean that he wasn't happy that he was free.

Harry was conflicted whether to tell Sirius what he wanted – and most likely sounding like a git – or spending Christmas with Sirius and sacrificing his time with the Grangers – making them think that he was ungrateful for everything they had done for him. The real reason he didn't want to leave here though - the reason that overpowered all the others - was because he didn't want to leave his best friend, in fact, he wanted to spend every second he could with her.

They had so many plans already. Concerning her parents, concerning their training for the tournament, and he had his own plans on confessing his feelings for her. But he wasn't sure if Sirius would think he was unhappy about his freedom if he wanted to stay with the Grangers.

He was in a right conflict right here, but he kept it to himself as he walked into the kitchen to help Mrs. Freeman with breakfast once more.

"Don't you look dashing, Harry," she said with her usual, elderly and teasing smirk as she scrambled the eggs in her frying pan. She was as lively as ever; and there were times when he had to remind himself that she was almost 70 years old, because the woman would usually act as though she was 30 or 40.

He was sure that the only convincing factor of her appearance that told anyone that she was old, was the wrinkles in her cheeks and the grey hair she was sporting quite stylishly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Freeman," he mumbled with a deep blush as he started to prepare the toast. He knew what everyone preferred, as he had cooked for them tons of times, so he had no problem preparing them as perfect as they liked it.

He blushed profusely as he buttered Mr. Granger's toast with his favourite jam, when he spotted Mrs. Freeman's smirk. The woman could flatter quite a lot for her age and he found himself blushing whenever she complimented him – for she was Hermione's grandmother and maybe Hermione saw him the same way.

She smiled kindly at him, her cheeks crinkling and forming firm dimples, as her eyes narrowed, "You aren't happening to be dressing up for a particular young lady are you?"

His cheeks were about to burn to their death from how much he was blushing and he willed himself not to chuckle nervously as he shook his head – not too fast so he wouldn't seem frantic – which he, admittedly, was.

He wasn't directly dressing up in a nice dress shirt and pants for Hermione, he wanted her to find him attractive yes, but at the same time he had to look presentable for a meeting such as this. He did indeed, find himself trying to look as best as possible for her. And he blushed in self-embarrassment as he remembered trying – and failing – to perform multiple push-ups last night before bed.

Luckily, Hermione hadn't seen that.

He felt as though he should prepared though, because soon they would be training down in the Dome. They hadn't gone back there ever since the day before yesterday, as they were simply enjoying Christmas and having tickle fights. But both were planning on returning to the magical area this evening after dark, so they could start their training.

He didn't know what they were going to do exactly when they returned to the Dome, for Hermione was the one preparing and organising their activities and exercises and she wouldn't let him look at her planning clipboard.

It was rather cute the way she would be defensive. He relished her blush last night when he had let his opinion slip to her.

He turned slightly to Mrs. Freeman who was watching him with an interested eye and a quirked eyebrow obviously awaiting his reply to her question.

"Of course not, Mrs. Freeman," he said and he was thankful to his voice that it hadn't betrayed his need to sound not squeaky and hadn't cracked his voice in a way that would have definitely been embarrassing. "Why would I want to do that?"

If possible, her eyebrow rose even further and she looked at him with an unimpressed expression. If she knew he was lying, she hadn't said anything. "I think the question here, Mr. Potter, is who you would do that for."

He stuttered as his face turned a deep shade of red. While the woman was a lovely lady, she had a way of making him feel very uncomfortable in situations. He took comfort in Hermione's words that he'd be used to it time, but he still couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about it all.

He wondered if Mrs. Freeman knew about his crush on her granddaughter. While she was an observant woman, spotting when he was trying to move his chair closer to Hermione's during dinner and winking at him, he didn't know if she had seen the way he acted when he was with Hermione.

He had tried his best after all, to hide it as much as he could – to not show that he had a crush on his best friend. And all along he hoped that no one found out.

It appeared from the way that she was looking at him that she did understand that he had feelings for her granddaughter. But she didn't seem as put out and angry as he had obviously expected her to be – if she looked as she was feeling anything, she looked as though she was feeling highly amused.

Mrs. Freeman didn't seem to be finished with her teasing though as she smirked even further at him with eyes sparkling with amusement. "I assume you're trying to impress her?" She asked as she looked behind him.

Harry blinked as he scarily turned around, but thankfully, Hermione wasn't directly behind him – she was coming down the stairs wearing a simple long-sleeved blue dress that didn't seem as simple as it was when she wore her because she looked so beautiful to him. In her hand, she carried their coats, the ones they had to wear as it was winter.

A cough behind him had him turning around slowly, and he was greeted by a smirking Mrs. Freeman, wearing the expression he had expected her to be wearing. She raised her already triumph eyebrow and he sighed.

He had never thought he'd tell Hermione's grandmother he had a crush on her granddaughter. In fact, he never thought that the first person he'd be telling probably his biggest secret thus far would be Hermione's grandmother. He was about to speak, trying his best to will his voice not to crack and stutter, when Hermione walked in.

"Good morning, Gram!" She said as she walked up to her grandmother and hugged her. She then turned to Harry and hugged him as well, her hug noticeably much longer than the one she gave her grandmother. He hugged her back, her intoxicating – in a good way – smell of perfume enough to knock him flat and her body warm enough to convince him he no longer needed the coat she handed him as she stepped back. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." She said as she looked between the two of them.

Her eyes were sparkling with amusement though, and he just hoped - hoped! - that she hadn't overheard his and her grandmum's conversation.

"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Freeman smiled at her granddaughter, but smirked at Harry as she winked at him, "Harry and I were just small talking as he helped me with breakfast," she answered.

"Right," Hermione droned sounding unconvinced. "Anyway, are you ready for shopping, Harry?" She asked.

Before he could speak, Mrs. Freeman huffed rather haughtily but yet, he could tell it was playful, "I still don't understand why you are all going shopping in this cold weather!" She said, "What I can't understand either, is why I'm not allowed to go."

Hermione rolled her eyes amusingly, "We told you, Gram, we're going shopping for presents. We already know you have ours – we need to get yours and everyone else's. We want to surprise you."

Mrs. Freeman rubbed her chin, "I do like surprises – just don't get me mittens like last year – nor should you give me another stitching set, I already have five! Maybe a ski board, I know a place up the road where –"

"Alright, Gram," Hermione said, "I'm borrowing Harry for a while."

"Okay," Mrs. Freeman sighed, "Just don't make too much noise – if you know what I mean." Mrs. Freeman smirked to herself as she watched the blushing teens disappear up the stairs. They were so smitten with each other, they just had to admit it.


Hermione pulled her best friend into her bedroom, both of them blushing from her grandmother's last teasing comment, and closed the door behind her with a simple tap of her elbow. While she adored Harry's confused look as to why she had brought him here in the first place, she knew he wanted answers.

Her answer was pulling the secret book that opened the secret passageway and Harry's confused look transformed into intrigue as he followed her down and into the Dome. His name for their secret area was justified, as she could almost see a glow of magic surrounding them, and it did indeed look like a dome.

She plumped down into a loveseat that was already there since their last session and Harry sat next to her, his presence warm and comforting.

She reached under the chair and pulled out her bag and then her clipboard, passing it to Harry. "I've finished preparing the schedule," she announced. She watched as his green mystic eyes traveled through their schedule, she already knew how it looked – she had written it after all.

They were going to come here twice a day, once in the morning and then in the afternoon. In the morning, they would be practicing muggle combat and exercises as much as their bodies could so they could become fit for the tournament and whatever other dangers would come their way. There was an entire half-hour dedicated to swimming as both wanted to be confident in their swimming skills for the second task.

Then in the afternoon, late in the evening after dinner, they would be practice magical combat. They'd learn different spells, both defensive and offensive, and all sorts of techniques in dueling and magical combat that could be used in the tournament and whenever they had to. Hermione had found a book in the library that listed tons of activities they could take part in that would help them greatly in magical combat.

The book, coincidentally, was a training guide for Aurors. So if they did the same training as Aurors could, they would be able to take on a dark wizard or two.

At the end of the schedule that detailed their activities for the day before the day they had to leave for Hogwarts, she placed a shy scribble that she hoped he agreed with. Theory of Animagus Transformation. "Like Padfoot?" He asked, "This is brilliant by the way – what you've done. I didn't expect any less."

She blushed prettily as she bowed her head down slightly, "Yes, Animagus. Remember we did it in our third year?" She asked, he nodded attentively, "Right, I suggest we learn whatever we can to defend ourselves. Other than the tournament, we don't really have dangers we have to fear. But after the visions you've been having and the way you and your scar is feeling, we can guess that Voldemort has something planned."

His eyebrows furrowed, "But I'm guessing we'll be unregistered," he said.

"About that, there's no other way to say it – yes. I think we have a reason to do so. Dumbledore and the other professor's aren't protecting us, they did nothing to help you when Ginny was brought into the chamber, and they did nothing when you were bullied when they believed you to be the Heir of Slytherin or when your name was taken from the Goblet. They aren't' protecting us like we've thought they were – I've done some looking back Harry, and it's true. The stone, McGonagall didn't help – coincidentally the tasks were things we did in our classes and things we're good at – the door opened to a simple Alahamora, Harry." She reasoned

She thought it would have taken a lot to convince Harry that the professors and Dumbledore more so weren't taking care of them, that whenever they were in danger, they never helped them, they either left them on their own, didn't believe them or put them into more danger, like Dumbledore sending them back in time. But as Harry sat there, his eyebrows furrowed in focus and thought, she could see that he was realising something.

Harry had definitely grown up from that scrawny kid who was so reckless and immature. Nowadays, she noticed that he was acting more maturely than she had ever imagined. While she knew that it was their idea to go further down into the traps in first year, it was to protect the stone. And if three first years were able to get past the traps placed there for the stone's protection, why would they even place those traps in the first place?

"You're right." He suddenly announced, "Dumbledore knows how much danger I'm in because of the tournament and because of Voldemort. But he hasn't done anything to help me. No one, except you, of course, has helped me. If they aren't going to look after our protection, I think it's time we looked after it ourselves."


Despite being in chains and having dementors loom over him darkly once more, he didn't feel as traumatised as he thought he'd feel. It was all just Remus' persuasion and the fact that he'd see his love, Amelia, once again that really pushed him to allow the Aurors to put him in these blasted chains and shackles once again.

He was in a room inside of Courtroom Nine, and they were multiple Aurors around him, wands out and ready to do something if he did something. Which he wouldn't. He guessed he understood why they were all nervous and alert: even though he knew he was innocent, they didn't. All they really knew about - all they thought they knew - was that he was a dark sorcerer who worked for the evilest wizard of the century and betrayed the parents of the Boy-Who-Lived to Voldemort himself.

He almost snorted, he'd never do that. Even under the Imperius curse, he'd use all he had inside of him not to betray Lily and James if he had been the secret keeper in the first place. It was all Pettigrew's fault. He closed his eyes as he fought the urge to hiss and rage at the thought of his former best friend.

The feeling of betrayal that ran through his veins when he thought of Peter was immense, and he was barely holding himself back from roaring in anger and frustration.

He didn't think they'd like that. The Aurors certainly wouldn't and would probably use that for an excuse to perform some spells and curses on him. And the Wizengamot members wouldn't like it because even if he was innocent – if he was proven innocent – they wouldn't want someone mental walking the streets after years in a place that could turn your head upside down.

They'd probably throw him into one of those muggle asylums. But even there they may not want him, for the muggles too knew about the false crimes that he had so-called committed, they'd still fear him even if it was broadcasted that he was innocent.

Lily said some muggles were like that, and he believed every word she said. She explained that muggles were afraid of what they can't understand – they get offensive and panicked – therefore doing rash things – when they encounter something they don't understand.

He didn't even understand himself right now, he didn't think the muggles would either. Signs of accidental magic when he was angry or depressed would probably have them sticking needles into him, trying to find out how he did it. He shuddered, he wished Lily had never shown him those alien movies.

Sweet, lovely, poor Lily. A wonderful sister to him, the one he never knew he wanted until they became siblings by her and James' relationship. She was amazing, the best person to comfort you whenever you were down, she always knew the right words to cheer you up. And she was the perfect match for James.

They were a lovely couple, and growing up, he had this frame of mind where he thought grown men didn't cry, but the day of their wedding, when they were so beautiful at the alter with large, loving smiles aimed at each other, he wept tons. Gallons, Remus had corrected later.

The smart one in the group, the one to keep them out of trouble and help to create the most creative and funny pranks. The quiet kid in school who was a mixture of brain and brawn. There were a lot of times when they didn't appreciate him for all his efforts, and there was a time before the full moon when he had snapped at them for being under appreciative for everything he did for the group. Sirius could say that it was basically a wake-up call for them, and it was the day the rest of them had decided to become Animagus to help him on the nights where the wolf inside of him came out.

It was safe to say that Remus had been so touched that he had cried a little, the tough exterior he had been putting on when they were becoming Animagus to show them he wasn't going to be pushed around, dropping in an instant as they shared a group hug.

It was such a girl thing to do, but then, he, James, and Peter had made an exception. It was those kinds of days where he understood more and more that being in that group, being a Muarader meant there were things you had to make an exception to when it came to your best friends, and they were times when you had to sacrifice for them because they were your brothers, your family.

But Peter Pettigrew clearly didn't see it that way, and the traitor had brought James and Lily's murderer to their doorstep in fear and so-called loyalty for the dark lord – for Peter's master. He could remember the day they all said that they'd sacrifice themselves for the other.

The day James said he was going to be a father was the day forward where he – only – was the exception to that rule because he was going to be a father and he was already a husband, and no one wanted young Harry Potter, the treasure to all the Marauders, to grow up without his father or mother.

No one but Pettigrew it seemed.

And now, his godson was parentless and it was Peter's fault. He could have been there for Harry when he lost his parents. But also thanks to Wormtail, he wasn't and was stuck in a cell in Wizarding Britain's most feared facility.

But that was going to change today, he thought with a deep breath as he looked forward with determined ideas. It was all going to change today and finally – finally – he would gain back the guardianship of his godson. He had dreamt of this day for years in his cell and his bed at Grimmauld.

He'd do what James hadn't gotten the opportunity to, he'd treat Harry like his own, he'd do whatever it took to make him happy, and judging from what he was hearing right now, Harry was happy - in the care of Hermione Granger.

He found out just yesterday when Amelia mentioned to Remus that the two were together because the owls she sent to invite them to the trial went the same direction and thanks to the tracking charms always placed on Ministry Owls.

Sirius had taken a liking to the young witch, as she was just as smart and brilliant as Lily was, and obviously was a perfect match for his godson. He could see the way she looked at him, eyes full of trust and love and he could see the way Harry relied on her, placed all of his trust in her. They were a perfect match and he hoped that unlike James, Harry would pull his head out of his arse far quicker than James had and ask her out.

If he knew Potter men though, which he did, he could say that they didn't do things halfway, and Hermione would be Harry's girlfriend sooner or later. He hoped that after he was proven innocent, which he knew he would be, he'd help Harry in one way or another to get his girl.

What he didn't know was if he was getting guardianship of Harry just yet, as he wanted to first go to a mental hospital – as loath as he was to admit it – to take care of the damage the Dementors had done to his brain. He would get guardianship of Harry, yes, it was just that he wouldn't be able to take care of him as yet.

Harry was staying at the Grangers this Christmas, and if he said he liked it there, Sirius wouldn't tell him to join him for Christmas. He'd probably just visit on Christmas day, where they could be together.

He looked around him, the Aurors were still alert as ever watching him attentively without actually showing it, but he knew they were, for he had been an Auror once as well, with his partner being James Potter of course.

His eyes were looking for a particular Auror though, his cousin named Nymphadora Tonks, who was a junior auror. He figured she wouldn't be here as she was a junior auror after all. He wondered if she had done the same treatment and training he had been through. Mad-Eye was truly a master at turning anyone into an Auror

Something was happening outside, as he could hear speaking coming through the doors despite the silencing charms that had been placed. He guessed he could still hear because of the hearing enhancement he got from being an Animagus.

An enhancement he found interesting and helpful but sometimes even annoying. He could still remember the day he had walked into the Potter Cottage before having to walk out directly after because his enhanced hearing had made him hear some really... disturbing things. If he could remember properly, it was about ten or nine months before Harry was born.

He closed his eyes once more and chuckled inwardly. He wished he could hear what was going on out there.


Remus Lupin knew what was going on because he was sitting in the room where all the business was happening. He felt extremely uncomfortable that he was in the chair of the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black – that he was in Sirius' rightful chair. But he knew that it was something he had to do. Besides, soon enough when Sirius would be freed, Sirius would officially, publicly claim his seat in the Wizengamot and his role as the Lord of House Black – so he was only here temporarily.

He felt oddly out of place as he sat there amongst high ranking Wizengamot members because he was never treated this way, he always treated as vermin, because, well, everyone shared the unjustified opinion that all werewolves were vermin.

But there he was as Regent of House Black sitting on a high and proud chair as everyone who walked past him gave him different looks – whether they be appraising, loyal, or forced nods of respect, they had one thing in common, they weren't looks of scorn and disgust.

There were dementors over them, he didn't know why but he figured everyone wanted safety, just in case Sirius Black wasn't innocent, which he was, but they didn't know that as yet. The only thing that seemed to light up the circular courtroom was the presence of Patronus' from those elite wizards who could cast one and the dim torches scattered neatly across the room.

He spotted Amelia in her usual seat and was pleased to say he had the privilege of getting her to break her stern appearance and receiving a smile from her. He could already imagine her glee when they announced Sirius a free man. He knew that the only thing stopping her from rushing up to her beloved and kissing – probably shagging – him right there was the Wizengamot members and the dementors.

They could wait until they arrived home.

The thing on the forefront of his mind was the image of Sirius' face when he was pronounced free when the chains and shackles fell off him and clanked on the ground as he grinned cheekily at every bastard that wanted him to stay in that rotten place. Remus was sure that he himself might have had to hold back himself from rushing up to his best friend and hugging the living daylights out of him.

Ever since Kreacher had apparated him into Sirius' place, he never knew poverty again as he had before. And day after day he'd be thankful that he had a wide variety of food he could eat thanks to Sirius and his house-elf – who was, surprisingly acting kinder to everyone. The once deranged house-elf he had only met a few times back in the last blood war when they used Grimmauld Place extensively as a base, was no longer there, and he seemed to be warming up to everyone – despite the still haunted look in his eyes.

He thought it had to do with the way Sirius was now treating him as well, the wizard he knew as his best friend was treating the house-elf better than Remus ever could imagine, unlike the Sirius who loathed every word that came out of the house elf's mouth fifteen years ago.

Sirius was giving him - the House-elf that is - galleons each month for everything he had done, Sirius would ask him to make clothes as giving him clothes would result in the elf's freedom and Sirius would even allow him to eat at the table.

It was peculiar to watch at first, for he never thought Sirius would treat the house-elf like that, but after a while, he'd gotten used to it. Besides, he was in some ways, similar to the house-elf, they had both received underestimation and disgust because of their titles as magical creatures. So he could relate and sympathise.

He looked around him. Lord McCallum looked as pompous as ever; Remus remembered the man when he was a seventh-year prefect when Remus had just enrolled into Hogwarts. The then young adult always wanted to be with Sirius, and as Remus grew older and understood the Wizarding World more extensively than his parents had explained, he understood that that the now Lord McCullum just wanted to show everyone that he was friends with their Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

There were many instances when he understood that the Wizarding World – at least Wizarding Britain – was backward and old – and sketchy. It seemed that all most individuals – especially the pompous Purebloods – cared for was their public image and influence and how many galleons they had in their Gringotts bank account.

Remus himself had been grown up in the Wizarding World, but his parents made him mostly unaware of it because of his disease, because they didn't want to endanger anyone, and didn't want him to be endangered if anyone found out about him and his wolfy abilities.

So when he had entered Hogwarts, he was just as impressed and awed by the castle and magic as every other Muggleborn was. He wasn't a Muggleborn though, nor was he a Pureblood of course. He was a half-blood and more so, a half-breed.

His father had been a half-blood himself, running around Wizarding Britain, hiding from the people who wanted to murder people like him when he met his mother, an unfortunate Muggleborn who was in the same position as he was. They talked, they dated, they kissed, they married, they shagged and they had him. In an unfortunate time: when the Dark Lord was rising more powerful than he was when his parents had found each other.

It was quite unfortunate that his village had been the one Death Eaters had chosen to attack and raid, and possibly murder and rape. What was more unfortunate was that one of the death eaters that had come to attack was a werewolf. One of the most powerful werewolves, whose bite was much more powerful than his howl.

He had been in his bedroom. Mother had been casting enchantments just outside and father was trying to help the other villages fend off who they could while staying close to the house to protect them. But Fenrir Greyback didn't use the front door – nor the back door in fact – he used the windows.

He had been bitten before anything could have been done, and Greyback was gone with a smirk before mother or father could have helped him. They had been extremely supportive of him and didn't let his Lycanthropy get into the way of their relationship.

But even though their support was the absolute best, he still had problems with his self-esteem. So when he made friends with Sirius Black and James Potter, and later on, Peter Pettigrew, he was afraid if they weren't going to be friends with him anymore if they found out he was a werewolf.

In future years, he had kept it a secret, until he could no more and they had found out. But they didn't mind, James even said it was cool. When the day came when they had rowed because of how they didn't appreciate him, they had done something that made him cry.

He still couldn't believe that they had gone against Wizarding laws and became unregistered Animagus, just so they could help him with his furry little problem, as James had put it.

He was thankful to them, and even though he knew they wouldn't have been friends if he hadn't come to Hogwarts, he was well aware that Albus Dumbledore only allowed him that opportunity because he wanted a spy. He sighed silently as he watched with a small secret smile as his two favourite students entered, he just wanted Sirius to be free and for Harry to have his godfather back.


They were in the Granger's car a few minutes later, chatting animatedly about anything and everything. The Granger parents had been very supportive of the idea of them going to the trials, and shared their opinion of what they thought of the whole ordeal.

"From what we're hearing, your godfather sounds like a wonderful man," Jean said, "It's good that the two of you saved him in your third year and now he's getting a trial to prove his innocence – though I still don't understand why you two had to do it."

A tense silence hovered over the car as John drove past building after building as though no one wanted to hear or say the answer. After they said goodbye to the Granger parents – who'd be doing some shopping to make their excuse more buyable, Harry asked Hermione a question that had been nagging him to be asked.

"Your parents know?" He asked, but regretted it. "Sorry. I mean, they should know about what goes on in your life – I just thought they'd be angrier at me after the dangers I've put you in."

She leveled him with a short glare but smiled nevertheless, "Again, Harry, I chose to be put in those dangers. And besides, they don't know everything. They only know a short, edited version of what happens. They think that in first year, you only had gone down for the stone, that I only helped you with a riddle. I told them absolutely nothing about second year, for I would be in a muggle school right now, and they think that in third year, we just saved Sirius from being executed because he was innocent."

"Hermione –"

"Don't say sorry, Harry," she quirked her eyebrow as they arrived at the floo fireplace. "It's best if they don't know."

They arrived at the Ministry a minute later and was met by an auror who seemed to be their escort. The Auror in question confirmed their suspicions. "Name's Nymphadora Tonks," she said, "Madame Bones, my boss, has asked me to escort you to the courtroom."

They followed her of course, as this was their first time in the Ministry. The owls, the flying paper airplanes that Hermione explained to be memos and short notes and messages, the wizards and witches walking around, it was all very nice - especially the way the building was built.

"My cousin's the one in the chains today," the auror shrugged, her pink hair swishing as she turned to them, "Always knew he was innocent; hear you two are the reason he's still alive."

"You're related to Sirius?" Harry gaped.

"Aye," she said, quite proudly. And Harry couldn't believe he'd meet another person he was basically related to. "sure am."

Hermione was the one who answered her question, "Yeah, we did what we could."

They arrived at the Courtroom and entered, sitting in the guest area as everyone around them got comfortable. Both Harry and Hermione ignored Dumbledore's gaze and shocked expression as they chatted silently among each other, about anything that could distract them for the time being.

It was a few minutes later, that the trial of Sirius Black, finally started.