August 19th, 1993
London
"I've never been fully convinced he's guilty of those murders. He didn't turn me and Lily over, and I don't think he was the one who killed those thirteen people in London that day."
"Of course! And that means you know better than the eyewitnesses present and the court!"
James Potter scowled at the small woman who kept trying to lose him while they left work. She was not, however, successful. He kept up almost effortlessly with her, which, considering she was barely 4'9'' and so petite she could be mistaken for sick given how pale her skin was and how dark her hair was, could hardly be described as difficult. She met his scowl with one of her own, wanting to reach up and pull her wand out of her hair, but instead shifted her files under arm. Knowing better than to say something right away, he waited, his hands jammed in his pockets, his heavy work bag over one of his shoulders. She did her best to avoid looking at him, uncomfortable and trying to avoid the subject all together. The two of them did not have a bad relationship - and in fact were friends - but this subject was one of the few they didn't see eye to eye on. It was, however, one he did not want to let go this time. Not with the current situation.
"James, I'm sorry," She said with a sigh. "But all of the evidence suggests that Sirius killed all thirteen people that day."
"I know what the evidence says," He said. "And, Delia, I am telling you - and I've told your husband and nearly everyone else in the ministry - that I can't believe that. He didn't do it. I know Sirius, I -"
"Even his husband thinks he's guilty."
James paused, nearly stepping into and being run over by cars speeding down the streets.
"And that is something Remus and I have never agreed on."
"You also," Delia reminded him. "Were comatose during that time. You were not in court, you were not even there when it happened and Remus was. Need I remind you that even Dumbledore thinks Sirius is guilty of those murders? Or that the bigger concern you should have is that we lost five years of time when we could have been looking for Pettigrew because we didn't know he had sold you and your wife out and couldn't believe Sirius?"
James shook his head. "I would know if Sirius had killed thirteen innocent people. He's my best friend. I would know."
Delia raised an eyebrow. "James Potter, however close the two of you were, that does not overrule evidence!"
He matched her stare perfectly. "And you, Cordelia Fudge, are doing what you always have, digging your heels in and refusing to move, and that nearly cost you everything when you were first starting as an auror. Isn't that why you got sent to Britain from the US in the first place?"
Delia bristled. "I am not being unreasonably stubborn. If anyone is, you are. Aren't you worried about what might happen to your son, or were you not there with my husband the night Sirius Black escaped?"
James fell silent, horror beginning to fall over him in waves.
"I was there," He said shakily, "But I don't think the 'he' Sirius was referring to was Harry. It…it can't…"
"James, listen," Delia said calmly, pulling him aside where they were less likely to be heard. "You and I both know that pretty much the only person in this world you care about is your son, who is the only family you have left. I understand that you want to view Sirius as part of that family, but he's so clearly not and you need to accept that."
"And what if I can find evidence that exonerates him?"
"Then that will release him immediately. You know that."
Silence fell between them, heavy and deeply uncomfortable while the lively crowds did not notice, completely unbothered and chattering with excitement.
"Fine," James eventually said. "But…"
Delia narrowed her eyes. "What is it now?"
James shook his head. "You know how much I care about him, how devastating it was to be unable to see my son and have him back until he was six years old, and had experienced five years of nothing but abuse! I -"
"I'm not calling into question your love for your son," Delia calmly replied. After a moment to get his feelings under control, James nodded. "It was just a reminder not to let your own sense of justice get the best of you when the real person you want to protect is him."
"Alright," James hesitated. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped on you."
Delia shrugged. "I snap on people all the time, it's not a problem. Now let me get you a drink because clearly you're not going to be functional enough to handle work the next few days if you don't get a little drunk here and there."
James rolled his eyes. "Is that your solution to everything?"
"Not everything," She said. "But it does help with most things."
"Fair enough," He agreed. "Just one more thing."
"And what's that?"
"Why do you, Cornelius, and nearly everyone in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement not want Harry to know that Sirius may be after him? Why is Cornelius, in particular, insisting on treating Harry like a child?"
"That's both of our faults," Delia admitted, ignoring the dark look he ever so briefly sent her. "And the answer is simple: he is a child, and he's had the threat of You-Know-Who wanting to kill him and having killed his mother his entire life, not that I'm inclined to believe that man is still alive at all. Either way, he's been through more than enough…so why put him through more?"
September 1st, 1993
En Route To Hogwarts
"My sister was using me as target practise the other day," Eddie Fudge casually remarked, slipping into a train car with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and his older sibling Tenya. "She stole some rotting oranges from our neighbours with her friends and tricked me into playing a 'game' that involved us trying to hit each other with them. I'm a terrible shot if it's not during quidditch, and our parents thought I'd been nearly run over by the time she was done. Mum seemed to think she was going to end up beating the shit out of some -"
"You're exaggerating, it wasn't that bad," Tenya replied, rolling their eyes. "She only left Hogwarts last year and is studying at a muggle university, and is in a band with her best friend. They - and the rest of their friends, frankly - get bored."
Eddie rolled his eyes. "I don't think normal people attack people with oranges when they're bored, but, then again, she spent the first ten years of her life in America and I don't remember any of it, so what the hell do I know?"
"She and mum do both still have light Jersey accents," Tenya giggled. "I love it, though, when they get mad and their accents get stronger. Plus Caity has a particularly high pitched voice, and it's adorable."
"Adorable?" Hermione glanced up at them strangely. "From what I know of your sister, she currently has hair split right down the middle between pink and purple, is only six inches taller than your mother, and got into fights a lot while she was at Hogwarts. She only finished last year, believe me when I say we all remember it all too well."
"It was brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "Especially when she punched that dick in her own house who called her mum a 'mudblood.' I mean, he deserved it because there's nothing wrong with having muggle parents, but still. Wish she'd done it on Malfoy after he said it to Hermione, though.."
"When did that happen?" Tenya glanced to Harry. "I don't remember hearing about this."
"It was quickly overshadowed by people getting petrified," He grimaced at the memory. "I'd rather not think too hard about any of that."
"Well, then," Tenya said, stretching out their arms and nearly smacking their brother in the face. "What do you want to talk about?"
Harry hesitated. "You might actually know something about this. Eddie too."
Tenya and Eddie glanced at each other, confused.
"I overheard your dad and mine arguing with your mum last night," Harry said, briefly sending Ron an apologetic look. Then, he glanced to Tenya and Eddie. "Your dad has apparently fought to keep this under the wraps because it would cause mass panic, and because he didn't think I should know, but Sirius Black has apparently escaped Azkaban to come after me."
Tenya shrugged. "I've known about that for months. Caity told me. But she then swore me to secrecy because our parents didn't know she'd been eavesdropping on them."
Harry stared at her in disbelief. "And you didn't say anything until -"
"In fairness," Hermione calmly interjected. "No one is going to send an owl saying that."
"And why would Sirius Black come after you?"
Harry tiredly ran a hand through his hair. "He was supposedly a mass murderer -"
Eddie, Tenya, and Ron all flinched.
"- And wants to find me to take me away when he couldn't the night my mum was killed and my father became comatose. Raise me himself, change me or some shit. Finish a job, I suppose."
"What's your dad had to say about it?" Hermione asked, her curiosity overcoming everything else.
"He was only able to talk about it with me this morning because I'd found out from his, Molly, and Arthur's argument," He sent Tenya a pointed look. "Apparently your mother made him take an Unbreakable Vow that he wouldn't say a word on the subject to me unless he found out about it on his own first."
"Sounds like something mum would do," They replied.
"That's all horrifying," Hermione said, finally setting her books aside. "I can't believe your father signed your permission form to go into Hogsmeade."
"That's the other thing," Harry said nervously. "I don't know what to think but, according to my dad, the evidence against Sirius is wrong. He never killed those thirteen people. The evidence is concrete, the court ruled in favour of prosecution…but my dad still thinks that Sirius is innocent."
September 5th, 1993
Birmingham, England
It was dark out, but he did not feel safe. Then again, the darkness had become almost synonymous with the cold, then fear brought out by the dementors. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever get past that induced phobia.
He also found himself wondering if he would ever be comfortable again, when he saw his picture in the muggle papers and the Daily Prophet. He certainly couldn't be out of his animagus form for very long, and he knew better than to test it. It seemed the whole of the UK was out to get him, a sentiment that was essentially accurate. He still couldn't believe that the muggle prime minister had been informed of the situation but, then again, he didn't blame Fudge for describing him as both dangerous and mad. Both of those things were, arguably, true. Anyone who was capable of remaining sane in and then escaping Azkaban after twelve years would have to be. There was no way around it. But there was a difference between that and the unjustifiable evil he had been accused and convicted of. Though no one was ever able to even tell he had been there, it had been Peter who killed those thirteen people. Thirteen innocent lives, wiped out in an instant, and all thirteen pinned on him because they were unable to find evidence of the true killer.
He would have laughed to himself if he had been able to in his animagus form. The memory of that day had been bad enough but in its own way darkly amusing to him considering the circumstances. He had no involvement in the evidence collection or court proceedings, but Fudge had been one of the people who had him arrested, had been forced to see the aftermath and Sirius knew better than anyone that the man was probably terrified of him for the sole reason of having witnessed him laughing when he had been taken away, not realising what was going to happen to him while the adrenaline had still controlled him.
Was there something deeply wrong with him? Maybe.
Was that keeping him alive? Yes.
He knew full well, too, that the rest of the UK wizarding world (and, he imagined, the American and EU as well) was firmly against him and wanted him back in prison. Yet James openly protested, openly defended him saying that he was not a killer.
It was unbelievable in the best way possible.
He also knew that the assumption within the leaders in the ministry were that he had escaped to find Harry. And that was true. But not to kidnap him as they believed.
He just wanted to be a part of his godson's life as much as his husband and James were.
"I should have known you and Lily would have a feisty baby," Sirius had joked, watching the eight month old baby reach for the snitch his father was letting fly around the living room. "Is she asleep?"
"Right now, yes," James had shrugged. "She needs it, though. I think she was up most of the night last week when he had a cold."
"Well, he seems pretty content with himself now," Remus had remarked, laughing when the baby almost grasped onto one of the wings of the snitch. "Think he's going to be a seeker?"
"I'm sure of it," James had smirked. "He's already taking an interest in quidditch. I'm sure he's going to find a way to become seeker during his first year, rules be damned!"
Things had been so right then.
And then they weren't.
It was all wrong, and it had been for the past twelve years.
Over a decade had passed, a decade where the few times he had been around other people had been while he was being prosecuted and convicted in court in January of '82, when Fudge, Kingsley, Amelia Bones, and Delia had seen him in Azkaban in '90 just after Fudge had become Minister of Magic (a moment he ironically found amusing considering how unbothered Delia had been by the entire situation until he had pointed out that she was not reacting to the dementors and therefore could easily be as horrible as they were all believed to be), and the night he had escaped.
Those were not moments where he felt truly human. More than anything, he wanted that again.
And being able to be exonerated would allow that.
Being able to be a part of his husband, godson, and best friend's lives would allow that.