Chapter 3

Hi daddy

Harry let his head drop on the table, and again for good measure. Another stack of letters was delivered to Arcturus by one of the house elves. Harry didn't need to read them to know what they said, all of them were variables of the same thing. I/We was/were delighted to hear about the return of your presence to British shores and would love to get together sometime soon at your convenience for some quality time just like in the past.

Ever since Arcturus's public performance in the Wizengamot and the articles in the Daily Prophet there was a steady stream of visitors and petitions by letter for a meeting. The bearer of one of those messages had been spread over the parlour due to an unfortunate crossing with a blasting hex from Arcturus's wand. Melania had afterwards taken the precaution of redirecting all mail to the house elves, which didn't stop the letters but lowered the chance of having to take a shower to get owl guts out of your hair.

Not everyone was as considerate to send a letter, letters you could ignore, some just dropped by unannounced. Some of whom made him almost regret coming back to the past and another dimension. Pollux and Irma, dragging along Cassiopeia, had been the first. They weren't so bad. Harry had always liked them.

Pollux and Irma were warm and homely. They had never been the smartest or strongest, and ambition seemed alien to them. Harry still wondered how the two of them ever made it into Slytherin house. Pollux had laughed hardest when he had voiced that thought out loud in his past life. They were also the first to admit that age had mellowed them out. Their biggest concern in life remained, even after all these years, the other's happiness. They were a love pair if there ever was one and never seemed to get tired of each other's company.

Cassiopeia on the other hand was a hermit. She had very little patience for the niceties of society and would let you know in the bluntest way as possible when you were being an idiot. One of those rare Blacks not sorted in Slytherin house. She was as brilliant as she was mad. She could get so lost in research that she would forget to eat and drink. Regular visits by her brother, Pollux, and sister in law, Irma, were sometimes the only thing that kept her alive.

It wasn't only her research that was top notch. In a half forgotten past she had also been a champion of the duelling circuit. She had also been Bellatrix's favourite aunt and mentor.

His presence as Sirius's son was readily accepted by the trio. In a way it was even true. Any blood test would show him as Sirius's son—alongside Lily and James Potter— When Sirius had hesitantly brought up his wish to blood adopt him, Harry had readily agreed. Besides bond of affection there were also political considerations. His adoption put him in a more direct line for the headship of house Black in the eventuality when Arcturus and Sirius would pass on. At the time none of them had known that that eventuality would come to pass within two years.

Any questioning on the identity of his mother was quickly shutdown by Arcturus and Melania—Her identity was none of their business—Yes she was dead—Would they have taken him in if she hadn't been a pureblood—Yes they were aware of Sirius's less than stellar tastes in partners—All that mattered now was getting Sirius back home safe.

Lucretia and her husband, Ignatius Prewett, had barged in then. How that pair had come to be was still one of the great mysteries of life. Lucretia was fun, especially one she was in a mood, while Ignatius had a bigger stick up his arse than Percy Weasley.

Their stream of visitors hadn't ended with them. Some were familiar enough to drop in, others claimed a greater familiarity to get the latest gossip from the source. It was fraying on his nerves, a sentiment shared by Arcturus. Each time it was the same banal conversations. The pair of them had slipped away a few times to do more interesting things, leaving Melania to sort their visitors out.

Perhaps one good thing to come from it all was that his existence elicited sympathy for Sirius's plight and one of the gossip mongers, perhaps several, had been kind enough to share it with several friendly journalists.

The press had been having a field day since Arcturus's speech in the Wizengamot. They were like vultures circling a corpse for easy pickings. As expected Sirius wasn't the only one who didn't have a trial, although the one with the highest profile.

Amelia Bones was using this opportunity to push her probe beyond the lack of trials for suspected criminals. She had announced an audit of every ministry department and its conduct. All in the name of the justice that everyone thought should triumph of course. Already some ministry employees were throwing their co-workers in front of the proverbial rampaging hippogriff in an effort to save their own hide.

All of this attention at least helped to set a quick trial date for Sirius. Scrimgour and Amelia had returned for their interview with Pettigrew the next day. For them it was all too soon clear that everything Arcturus had told them was true and that they had incarcerated the wrong person all of these years. The only thing they were able to conclusively pin on Sirius was his non-registered animagus form, an offence that lead to prison time for some and a small fine for others.

By all expectations Sirius should be cleared of all crimes and declared a free man in two days' time. Wizarding justice however could be finicky, even for scions of pureblood families. You could never know for certain who had bribed enough people to settle an old score. In that sense it was sometimes better to be lower in the pecking order. It caused people to care less what happened to you, less scores to settle, and less gain to be had by your conviction.

The two days passed by uneventfully and now Harry and Melania were seated in the antechamber to the Wizengamot, other family members were close by. Sirius trial was a closed session with no public allowed, thus they had to wait outside. Sirius's trial also doubled as Pettigrew's trial should the facts prove he should be convicted.

They weren't the only ones waiting for the verdict. A gaggle of journalists was waiting at the side lines for their opportunity. Some of them were itching to approach them, Harry was thankful they didn't. It allowed him to lounge with his head in Melania's lap who obliged him by combing through his hair and scratching his head. It almost caused him to purr.

Harry had also spotted Remus lurking in the shadows. The werewolf didn't look as if the past week had been the best for him. It probably wasn't. It wasn't really Harry's concern. Yeah there was some lingering resentment. Harry blamed the man for his blind worship of Albus. Worship that led to his inglorious death at the hand of his fellow werewolves.

Harry didn't hate the man, he even understood it. After all Albus gave Remus the opportunity to attend Hogwarts. An avenue that should have been closed due to his lycanthropy. He himself had looked upon Albus with worship for a time as well, as the reason for getting him away from the hellhole that was the Dursleys—Not the reason he was even there. Harry snorted. Humans were strange creatures.

Sometimes the doors opened to call upon another witness or release the previous one, Arthur Weasley was one of them. All the while there lingered a cold from a couple of dementors that were on standby close by.

It seemed that every little procedure was being followed and this was going to take longer than he had hoped or expected. Lucky for Harry house elf antechamber-wizengamot-service was superb, a book to keep himself occupied and refreshments to combat his empty stomach were swiftly delivered. He was a growing boy after all.

Seeing the wistful looks on the faces of the other attendees Harry took pity on them and ordered the house elves to bring them something to eat and drink as well. Sometimes he was just too kind.

At one thirty the doors to the chamber opened and the Herald of the Wizengamot invited public to see the course of justice be done.

It wasn't hard to guess at the verdict that was reached. Sirius, cleaned up but still looking haggard, was free to move in his chair, Pettigrew on the other hand was snivelling and chained tightly.

Harry could feel Sirius's gaze upon him, staring, registering every little detail about him. Harry returned the look with a grin and a little wave. It was heart-warming to see the smile that lit up Sirius's face, the years seemed to melt away from him. The photographers noticed as well.

When everybody was seated the Herald called for the proceedings to continue.

Albus stood up and took the floor. "This noble body has reached a verdict in the case of Sirius Black. After long and exhaustive deliberations and hearing all the evidence for and against we deem Sirius Black innocent of the following crimes: The betrayal of Lily and James Potter which led to their subsequent deaths at the hands of Lord Voldemort; The murder of one Peter Pettigrew; the death of thirteen muggles; and being a member of the group known as the death eaters. We deem him guilty of breaking statute 25, subsection 6, article 2: one who reaches a full body transformation as an animagus will be required to register with the ministry within a year of doing so."

It was official, Sirius was free.

"…For each year that the person known by the name of Sirius Black was incarcerated unlawfully in the prison of Azkaban he will be compensated 1000 galleons. Furthermore this body has judged that the punishment for his crime of non-registration has been paid in full. Sirius Black is hereby a free man and reinstated to all the rights and privileges pertaining to that liberty."

There was applause as Albus finished announcing the Wizengamot's verdict.

The wand Sirius had purchased at Olivanders at eleven had been snapped a decade ago but for the symbolism of his restored rights Sirius was given a dummy wand, a signal that he was once more able to practice his magic freely.

Albus waited for the rumour to die down before he continued. "Peter Pettigrew! You have been judged guilty of crimes unnumerable. You have confessed to this. You have confessed to being guilty of the crimes that the wizard known as Sirius Black was accused off. You have confessed to being a member of the group known as the death eaters. You have confessed to using the magic known under the moniker of the unforgivable cursus numerous times. You have shown yourself to be an enemy off wizarding Britain."

The power with which Albus spoke seemed to ebb away and his voice become monotone. "This body has deemed there is only one just punishment for the crimes you have committed—Your death. It has been decided that your punishment will be carried out by way off the dementor's kiss and will take place forthright." Albus settled back in his chair, looking each of the years of his long life, while the dementors were fetched.

The only sounds to be heard in the room were Peter's pleadings.

It wasn't the first time that Harry had seen a person kissed. If you didn't understand what it meant for the soul of a person to be kissed by a dementor you might even be mistaken that the kiss was a merciful end. There was no pain. It was simply as if nothing was left in your body. Your heart still beat, your lungs still filled with air, and your blood still flowed through your veins. But it was an empty husk that remained. Only when it wasn't forcibly fed by someone else would the body wither and die.

Meanwhile the soul would continue its life on earth. It would form a tortured existence as the essence of a new dementor.

Harry didn't flinch from the sight as some did. It was the burden of leadership, of taking action, to face the consequences of your actions head on. To cower now would be an insult. Pettigrew paid for his crimes with his life. In his death there was forgiveness—It was done.

While Pettigrew's body was being carted off the reporters swamped Sirius. He however had no time for them. The man was forcing his way towards the public tribune, although his going was slow. Harry met him at the bottom of the steps. Their eyes locked. Harry could see the uncertainty in Sirius's eyes. There was a clear physical resemblance between them but fear lingered in Sirius's eyes, fear that this dream would shatter.

"Hi daddy." Harry said, doing his best to sound as a child that was meeting his father for the first time.

Sirius closed the gap between them. His hands reached out to trace the outline of Harry's face, like a blind man feeling how a person looked, or feeling if the dream might shatter at a touch or was there to stay.

Sirius threw his bony arms around him, hugging, or crushing him against his emaciated chest. Harry wrapped his own arms around the man. This Sirius wasn't his dogfather but it was easy to fool himself. Whatever else that may happen here, he was sure that he wouldn't regret freeing this Sirius.