A/N: Trigger warning for child abuse in this chapter. It's vague, non-graphic, and the direct happening is only implication, but I wanted a warning anyway. If you want to skip that section anyway, it's the very small section after this one. There is dealing with it later, however.
Harry sighed, somewhat happily, from his position, under the window to the living room, hiding behind his Aunt Petunia's hydrangea bush, listening to the news. It was the only way he could listen, as he was chased out of the room whenever he attempted to listen with his aunt and uncle. He had, of course, been reading the Daily Prophet, but they seemed to be refusing to print actual news. Draco had been the one to accidentally tell him that they were making a mockery of his name, instead of the newspaper doing its job. Draco thought Harry was reading more than just the headlines and made sure he did after that.
"Knowledge is power," one of his letters stated. He didn't like the sentiment, but he could acknowledge that there might be something strange hidden in there, as Draco had also pointed out. So, he was devouring any piece of news he could.
The silence and peace of Privet Drive was suddenly broken as a loud crack reverberated through the air. Harry slammed his head on the windowsill he sat up so fast. Eyes watering and head dizzyingly hurt, he looked around, hoping that it was a wizard apparating and not disapparating. It could have been a car backfiring, he supposed, but that crack was rather distinctive.
A bellow was heard from behind him, and he turned to see his uncle charging toward him like an angry rhinoceros. He didn't have time to do anything other than choke as his uncle's hands squeezed around his neck. He gasped in breaths of air, with difficulty. His hands came up, trying to free himself from his uncle's grip. The world was spinning, and he was out of breath, was he dying?
"What do you think you're playing at?" Uncle Vernon hissed, still squeezing and shaking.
Just as quickly as everything started, Harry felt something like electricity in his hands, traveling up to meet his Uncle's. He bellowed, and released Harry, who fell into the window.
All up and down the street, eyes were poking out from behind curtains trying to see the drama unfolding. Uncle Vernon waved until they disappeared as Harry tried to catch his breath. He was stunned. The oaf had hurt him before, but never tried to kill him, and over what?
Still gasping, he crept away, crawling through the bushes. He had promised Draco some months ago that if he felt unsafe, he would leave, and he definitely felt in danger right now.
"Where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon rounded on him. Harry jumped, he would not be scared, he repeated to himself.
"I'm leaving." His voice shook a little.
"Get back here, boy! I won't have you doing your—"
"Vernon! The neighbors!"
"—In my house!"
"It wasn't me!"
"Who else could it have been, you nasty little liar?"
Harry opened his mouth, but his Aunt appeared next to Vernon. "Just what were you doing under our window?"
"Ah, yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our window, boy?"
Harry gulped. "I was listening to the news."
"Listening to the news? What young man wants to listen to the news? Why Dudley doesn't even know who the prime minister is!"
"Vernon keep your voice down, the neighbors."
"Quite right, Petunia dear. Boy! Either get out or go to your room before your aunt finds something for you to do!"
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He was out of there like a lightening bolt. He went to the park and sat on the swings for a while, trying to come up with a plan. This summer had been one of the worst ones. He kept waiting for something to happen, but nothing ever did. He wanted to leave, had been begging in every letter to his friends but they always said, as vaguely as possible, no. He had even asked Sirius if he could stay with him, wherever he was, but Sirius had also said, much kindlier, no.
You wouldn't like where I am, Sirius had written. You'll have much more fun where you are. Harry sighed. It was his own fault for not telling Sirius how bad things were. He hadn't lied to Draco when he said the Dursleys didn't touch him much anymore, but they still berated him and called him names whenever they could. They also gave him a list of chores every day, and if he didn't finish, he didn't get dinner. Or breakfast the next morning. Since it took him so long to get the chores done anyway, he needed the time he could've been eating.
He was very close to just going to the Leaky Cauldron, like Draco had suggested. He just knew someone would find out about his situation, however, and it was the same problem as telling someone what was wrong. Whoever he told would look at him strangely, and then other people would find out, and he would be a freak again. He hated that feeling, more than anything else, so he didn't let people find out.
Draco was special. Draco loved him. Draco had never looked at him like he was a freak, even when they were fighting. He had been gradually telling Harry how wrong it was that he was neglected by the Dursleys, and Harry was actually starting to believe him. His Uncle had lost his temper and could very well have killed him, after all. Perhaps he should leave and never return. He didn't need to tell anyone where he was, after all.
He caught sight of Dudley in the distance. He was itching for a fight and wished that he and his gang would come over to him. Keep your head down, echoed in his head, from one of Sirius's letters. He would. He wouldn't go over there and start a fight.
He waited several minutes then decided to head back to the Dursley's. He'd go straight to his room and not talk to anyone. After walking for a bit, he caught up to Dudley, saying goodbye to his gang. "Hey Big D!" He called after they departed.
He and Dudley started talking. Just when Harry was ready to use his wand, a streetlight went out. Then another, and another. The air began to chill. It was two dementors.
He was leaving. Privet Drive was no longer safe, and he had promised Draco. That was before Mr. Weasley's owl came. If it was Mr. Weasley saying so, maybe he would come get him. So, he waited. And waited. And waited.
Vernon Dursley was not happy with him and took his anger out on Harry. It was the worst punishment he had ever had. He was sure the punishment did not fit the crime, considering he had saved his son's life. The logic was lost on Vernon Dursley.
Harry entered the dark and dreary house with trepidation, upon Moody's insistent pushing. Number twelve Grimaud Place was just as dark on the inside as it was on the outside. He was being pushed inside by members of a guard who had just flown him across country on broomsticks. He rather liked a lot of them, Tonks in particular was nice. It was wonderful seeing Professor Lupin again, as well.
Before he knew what was happening, there was screaming coming from right in front of him, he was being pushed, a light came on, and a man was trying to close curtains over the screaming portrait. Lupin went to go help, and together they achieved their goal. The other man pushed his hair out of the way, turning, and Harry recognized his godfather, Sirius Black.
"Sirius," Harry cried, running forward to hug him. Sirius laughed as he embraced Harry, ruffling his hair first. It stung around his ribs, but there was no way that was going to stop him.
"Hey hey, kiddo, how you doing?"
"Alright."
Sirius smiled at him before addressing the mass of people behind Harry. "He's here already, meeting will start in a minute." There were interested murmurs as the crowd moved down the hallway to a door.
"Who's here? Meeting for what?"
Sirius grinned at him. "I'll explain later, this one's adults only. Your friends are upstairs, first room on the right."
"If I don't want to see them?" Sirius's smile fell off his face.
"I guess you can go to the library, I'll show you where it is. Tell them I'll be there soon," he added to Lupin, who nodded.
The rest of the house was just as darkened and awful. Finally, they got to the library. "Be careful which books you pick up, some of these are very dark. I think these should be pretty safe. Now, why don't you want to see your friends?"
"Because I'm angry with them." They had barely talked to him all summer, and when they did, they bragged about how they were together or told him to stay out of trouble. Harry hadn't had that great of a summer. Harry knew most of this wasn't Ron and Hermione's fault, but he couldn't help being cross with them for their part.
"Uh-huh. Well, we'll talk about that later, I'm late for the meeting. Have fun." With that, he left. Harry looked around the library with interest. He picked up a book at random.
"The Basics to Portkey Making" was the title. Harry opened the book with interest, hoping to learn how to detect if an object was a portkey. He read for a long time before the door banged open.
"Harry!" Came the choir of three voices that all converged on Harry. Two red masses and one brown stepped back, and Harry was able to distinguish their differences: Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.
"It's so good to see you!"
"How have you been, mate?"
"How's your summer been, Harry?" Harry stared at all of them. His anger hadn't subsided.
"Hi, Ginny," he said, turning to the girl. She had really grown up since the last time Harry had seen her. Her long red hair was now to her waist, she had grown at least a couple inches, and her chest had developed. Best of all, she was now meeting his eyes with a charming smile. He could now see that she was pretty, not nearly as beautiful as Draco was, however. Harry hadn't really talked to her since he had given up his second year, but that might change if she was no longer acting strange around him.
The temperature in the air dropped at Harry's cold brush off.
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks and Harry felt his anger increase. "Is there a problem, Harry?" Hermione said carefully.
Harry sat back in his chair, putting the book down. "Any reason I shouldn't have a problem with you two? You've been ignoring me all summer."
Hermione put her hand on Ron's arm. "We weren't ignoring you, Harry!"
"Yeah, mate, the order told us we couldn't write anything important."
"Is anyone going to tell me what this bloody order is?"
"The order of the phoenix," Hermione said instantly. "It's a secret organization created by Dumbledore to fight… You-Know-Who."
Harry stared at them. "Well?" They gave him confused looks.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? WHAT IS VOLDEMORT DOING? WHY ISN'T HE KILLING ANYONE? WHY AREN'T PEOPLE GOING MISSING? WHAT ARE WE DOING TO FIGHT HIM? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY DID I HAVE TO STAY AT THAT HELL HOLE ALL DAMN SUMMER? WHY DID IT TAKE NEARLY GETTING MY SOUL SUCKED OUT MY THROAT TO HEAR FROM ANYONE?"
They had backed away from him in the face of his anger. He truly was pissed at the unfairness of it all.
"They wouldn't let us in the meetings, we don't know anything about anything!"
Harry growled in frustration. "You had to have heard something. And that's only half the issue! I begged all summer to get out of there, and it turns out you two are here, together. What's the problem, was I not invited?" He really was truly hurt about that.
"We wanted you to come, but Dumbledore said that you were safer there!" Harry choked, then threw his hands up as he started laughing. It was deep and devoid of humor.
"Oh yeah. I'm safe there. I'm real safe." They all looked at each other, yet again, and his temper was above the surface.
Then Ron walked up to him, turning redder by the second. "Don't like it when people keep things form you do you? How do you think it makes us feel?"
Harry gaped. "You're still on that? Honestly, just leave it alone. I can't believe you'd keep something from me just to get back at me!"
"We were just trying to show you how it feels! Not very good, does it?"
"You're telling me you kept things about Voldemort from me—Voldemort! —just because you're mad at me?!"
"You've been lying to us for years! What are you keeping from us?"
"It doesn't matter! And I have not been lying to you! I have never lied! You and Hermione agreed that it was ok for us to have some secrets!"
Ron gave him a triumphant look. "Oh, wipe that smirk off your face. This is war, there's no room for petty squabbles." Ron looked disgusted.
The twins popped in, literally, at that moment. "Hey, Harry!" They said together. "We thought we heard your voluptuous voice."
They talked for a little while. They told him about how they were trying to hear the meeting with their extendable ears, about how Snape was giving some report. Harry glared at Ron and Hermione, who glared back and winced respectively. Finally, the meeting was over, and they were allowed into the kitchen for dinner.
His cheery mood lasted; he sat next to Sirius at an elongated table in the middle of the grimy basement kitchen. There was talk all around the table, but Harry was stabbing at his food angrily.
"You know," Sirius said quietly, leaning close to Harry, "I'm pretty sure it's dead."
Harry paid attention to his plate, only to find he had indeed killed it dead. He sighed and started eating regardless, he was very hungry, and he was pretty sure his ribs were starting to peak through his skin.
"Any particular reason you're upset?"
"No reason at all."
Sirius sighed. "So," he said, brightening considerably, "Guess what?"
"You got rid of your fleas?"
Sirius smirked and ruffled his hair. "No, smart mouth. I got a court date!" Harry gasped and hugged him. This was great news for Sirius winning his freedom.
"That is great!" Harry said, finally feeling like something was going right.
"Yeah, and it's right before your hearing, so if all goes well, I'll be able to go with you." Harry was split, hearing that. On the one hand, he would be over joyed for Sirius to be freed. On the other, he really didn't want to think about the hearing.
"What's the first thing you're going to do when you're free?" Harry asked.
Sirius smiled fondly, a strange look in his eyes. "I think…I'm going to take you to get some ice cream. How does that sound?"
"Brilliant." Harry agreed easily, and it did sound brilliant.
The dinner continued, talking and laughing prevalent around the table. As everyone was sitting back, pushing their plates away, full, Sirius turned to Harry.
"You know, I'm surprised at you, I would have thought the first thing you did when you got here was ask questions about Voldemort," Sirius said to Harry, louder than he needed to be. The effect was instantaneous. The temperature dropped several degrees, several people gasped, others winced, and two glasses were upset, leaving behind small puddles of liquid. "Honestly. We're fighting him, you lot should get used to hearing the name. Well, Harry?"
Harry pushed his plate forward and turned to face his godfather. "Ron and Hermione said we're not allowed to ask questions."
They both opened their mouths to complain, but Sirius held up a hand. "Of course, you're allowed to ask questions, Harry. What would make you think you're not?"
Harry's anger, which had receded during the meal, began rising, as it did pretty frequently lately. Maybe if it hadn't, he wouldn't have said, "It's the first rule for a quiet life at the Dursley's." He felt vindictive pleasure at the concerned looks he received. Let them be worried for him, he had a deficit of it this summer.
Sirius looked more surprised than anything. "You're not allowed to ask questions? What kind of a rule is that? You're allowed to ask questions, Harry, as many as you want whenever you want."
Harry felt a bubble of joy rise up in the sea of despair that was his emotions. That had been something about his childhood that had truly bothered him, and it was nice to know things would have been different with Sirius. Then he got sad, because things would have been different with Sirius.
Mrs. Weasley appeared to disagree with Sirius. "You can't be serious! He's just a boy, he can't be asking anything he wants!"
"I am, in fact, have we met? Of course, he can ask questions." They got into an argument. Over him. He was rather offended by several of Mrs. Weasley's insinuations. The little voice inside him that sounded suspiciously like Draco urged him to speak up.
"Mrs. Weasley," he broke in, "I appreciate everything you do for me, I'll never be able to tell you how much. But you can't just claim me one second and abandon me the next. Sirius has always been there for me, at the risk of his own life. He's my godfather, and my parents are dead, that makes him my guardian. Are you really saying you want to argue with my parents' choices?" He had tacked on that little bit of manipulation at Draco's voice's insistence. He felt rather bad the second the words were out of his mouth, but that couldn't be helped with how he was feeling.
Mrs. Weasley looked rather heartbroken at his words, but Harry was hurt, too. Sirius looked happy and proud, what else could he do? They were having a fight and Harry stopped it. The other Weasleys didn't look very happy either. Harry sighed.
"Well, now that's settled," Sirius said cheerfully, "what do you want to know?"
"Where is Voldemort? What's he doing? What is he planning? Why isn't he killing anyone? Why is the ministry still denying he's back? What's being done to convince the ministry he's back? What's being done to prepare for the war?"
Sirius smiled at him. The answers, in Harry's mind, amounted to, essentially, nothing. At least, not good enough. He was seriously worried about Voldemort, and his future was bleak with him on the horizon. The answers he got made him feel resentment and wrathful.
Finally, he got to the question he had been most dreading and needing the answer to. "Why, after I witnessed Voldemort returning, was I shipped off to the Dursleys to rot?" He kept a lot of his anger out of his voice, but the thing about having a huge amount of anger is if you take a lot, there was still a lot leftover. "Why couldn't I have been here?" He addressed to the room. No one answered, and it did nothing for his temper. "I saw Voldemort's ding-dong, that was traumatic enough, and had to fight for my life, and it took nearly having my soul ripped out to be rescued from the Dursleys?"
"Harry, you're safe there. It's your home, and we have no right to take you from your home."
Harry snorted out a laugh. "That's rich; are you sure about that? Absolutely sure?"
"Dumbledore assured us there are protective measures at your home to prevent you being hurt."
The remark made the anger, bubbling lowly just beneath the surface, boil over. "Does this," Harry pulled on his shirt collar, unbuttoning it first. "Look like I am safe from being hurt?" The handprint on his neck was a sickly yellow and purple. There were gasps all along the table.
"What the—" Sirius gently grabbed Harry, wrapping his hand around his neck to compare his hand to the bruise. "What the hell? Why do you have a handprint around your neck? Oh god," he had turned Harry's head to see the damage to the other side. "Did you get strangled, Harry? Who the hell tried to strangle you?"
"Does it matter? I think this proves I'm not in the safest place?" Mrs. Weasley was tearing up, covering her mouth with her hands, as were Ginny and Hermione. Everyone else was staring at him, gaping.
"Harry, I want to know who did this to you. Because if it's who I think it is, I'm going to kill them." Sirius said this very seriously with an air of total calm. Harry reconsidered saying anything.
"Why would that make me want to tell you? Promise me you won't hurt them, and I will."
Sirius glared at him. "Harry. Did your uncle do this to you?" Harry sighed and looked down which was apparently answer enough for him. "Damnit!" Sirius swore as he banged the table and got up. Not even Mrs. Weasley berated him for his language.
"How could anyone do that?" She whispered, but in the silence it carried. Harry looked down again as Sirius started to pace, muttering under his breath. Lupin stood and took his vacated chair.
"Was this the first time something like this has happened?"
"You mean the first time he strangled me? Yeah. He hasn't tried that before." Sirius stopped to look at Harry.
"Has he tried to hurt you before?" Lupin rephrased.
Harry sighed and put his head in his hands. He was quickly losing control of this situation. "I'm sorry, let's just forget it, I heal fast—"
"Harry, this is important. Have you been hurt by the Dursleys before?" The question was so ridiculous, he had been hurt many times and in many ways by the Dursleys and he had the scars to prove it. He started laughing.
He hated being the center of attention, hated others knowing he was weak, hated having to talk about something that was deeply personal. The laughing was slightly hysterical. He was so out of the realm of reality it was the only thing he could do. His efforts only resulted in strange looks, but Sirius stopped pacing.
Harry jumped up, unable to take the stifling atmosphere anymore. "Well there's a book with my name on it in the library, I'm just going to…" Lupin blocked his path.
"Harry, we need to talk about this."
"I don't think we do. Just forget I said anything." He dodged around Lupin, but he got a hold of him as he was making his escape.
"Moony," Sirius said in a strangled voice. "Let him go." Lupin did, and Harry backed away slowly. "If he doesn't want to talk about it right now, he doesn't have to." He spoke directly to Harry, and he heard the underlying message. They would talk about it later.
Never the less, he had found an escape, and he took it. He hurried out of the room and headed to the library. He really did want to keep reading the book on portkeys.
There was a knock on the door. Sirius popped his head in when Harry called out. He gave Harry a tense smile and entered the rest of the way in the room.
"Are they still talking about me?" Harry asked. Sirius let a breath out through his nose, as if surprised to have been caught.
"Yeah. I was elected to come up and talk to you. Rather, I yelled until the others agreed it was probably a good idea. So…" He stretched the 'so' out before it tapered off. Harry and he sat in slightly awkward silence, Harry figured he was psyching himself up. "Harry," he started, and Harry wondered why everyone was using his name so much. "I want to apologize to you." Harry certainly wasn't expecting that.
"You don't—"
"Yes, I do. Just listen for a minute. I had no idea that things were that bad, and if I had known I would've done anything to get you out of there. I would have taken you with me, given you money for a hotel, anything would have been better than you getting hurt. I want you to know, it's wrong that you were put there in the first place, it's wrong what they did to you, and it's wrong that no one realized anything was wrong. I've been going over things you have told me about them, and I realize you were trying to say something, and I understand why you couldn't. I know it took a lot of courage for you to speak up tonight, even if you didn't mean to, and I want you to understand how proud I am of you." Harry felt tears pricking at his eyes, and had to look down, rocking himself a little.
No one had ever told him they were proud of him, and Harry hadn't realized that he had missed it until just then.
"If I had never gone after bloody Wormtail, none of this would have happened."
"It's not your fault!" Harry began, he had more, but Sirius held up a hand.
"Part of being an adult means acknowledging your mistakes and taking responsibility for them. I had you in my arms, Harry. That night, after your parents died, I was holding you when Hagrid came up to me. He said he had instructions to take you to Dumbledore. He convinced me to hand you over, and I never should have done it. But I did want to be the one to find Wormtail. I wanted to look him in the eye and ask him why he did it. I don't know even now what I was planning to do when I got him. I never should have given you up, and I'm sorry for that." Harry had been looking down at his knees, it was getting harder and harder to not let out a sob.
He looked up when Sirius's voice wavered, and he wiped away tears too. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," he said, he got up and leaned over Harry's chair, giving him an awkward but comforting hug, and Harry couldn't keep the sobs at bay anymore. Sirius just hugged him tighter.
"My parents were awful," Sirius told him much later. They had moved over to the couch, and Harry had his head on Sirius's shoulder. "They were negligent. My mother was alright when I was a child, compared to when I was a teenager. She mostly used words. My father, on the other hand, he would hit me on occasion. It wasn't often, and it was always a punishment. That doesn't make it right, mind, but I never really considered it to be abuse. It was normal to me, parents punish their children and that's just the way things are. It took me leaving, I stayed at your dad's place when I was sixteen, and seeing him with his parents to understand that how my parents treated me wasn't normal or ok. Once I was out of this house, I felt so free," he looked around wistfully.
Harry stared at the chairs in front of them, he knew what Sirius was doing, but it was working. "They started out just swatting at me when I did something wrong. Punishment, like you said, and it was very minor, didn't really hurt. The older I got, the more they'd hurt, the more often they'd get upset at me. It seemed like everything I did was wrong. I realize now that I'd been showing more and more signs of having magic, and they wanted to try to get rid of it. One time, they shut me in the cupboard for a month. That, I think, was the worst one. The worst punishment, I mean." "Until now," he was trying to get the courage to say. Sirius had tilted his head, trying to look at Harry, and Harry looked up at him, worried he had shared too much.
"The cupboard?" Sirius asked, trepidation etched in every line of his face. Harry winced.
"Yeah." Sirius waited. Harry sighed deeply, "the cupboard under the stairs. It was my bedroom until they thought there were people watching the house."
Sirius turned from him, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Harry waited, hoping there wouldn't be too much of an explosion. It didn't come. After a couple beats, Sirius turned back and gave Harry his best try at a smile.
"Thank you for telling me all that, Harry. I know it was hard. I'm so proud of you." He pulled Harry into another hug. "If there's ever anything you need to talk about, anything at all, you can come talk to me."
"Ok," Harry agreed. He felt great. Better than he had all summer. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and chest. It was like he hadn't even realized he wasn't getting enough air until he took in a lungful. "Sirius, can I tell you something, and promise you won't get mad?"
"You can tell me anything, and I promise I'll try not to get mad." It was good enough.
"My ribs hurt." Sirius sat up.
"Is there a reason they should be?" He asked carefully.
Harry nodded. Sirius took a deep breath. "Show me where it hurts."
Harry took a deep breath too. "Ok, but it's not pretty." He warned and lifted his shirt. Sirius gasped.
His ribs were outlined lightly, and bruises had formed. Under that, the various scars he had were particularly visible. Sirius held out a hand and very gently touched one of the bruises. Harry breathed deeply, not willing to show the pain, but he had a feeling Sirius understood.
He got out his wand. "I'm pretty good with healing charms, benefit of being best friends with a werewolf. But if these bones are broken, we may need to get you to a hospital."
Harry moaned. "I don't want to go to a hospital."
"It wouldn't be good right about now, but we'll deal with it if it's needed." Sirius focused on his work, intricately moving his wand over every one of Harry's bruises. It looked much better when he was done. "Ok, I think I got all the little stuff, but there's a hairline fracture on one of your ribs, and I think a couple more are bruised. I would feel much better if Remus took a look at it."
"Oh, no I'm fine, already much better, it doesn't hurt that much—"
"Harry. You don't need to make excuses to me. Let me go get Remus, ok?"
Harry slowly nodded, too choked up to talk. Sirius hurried out of the room and returned minutes later.
"I'm sorry, Professor Lupin, I don't want to bother you—"
"It's no bother, Harry. Sirius already explained what's going on, can I see?" He asked.
Harry lifted his shirt again. The only reaction was a small tic before he set to work. He muttered under his breath as he worked. Finally, Harry felt a pinch and he was done.
"Thanks, Professor." Remus shook his head.
"No thanks are necessary. It has, however, been years since I was your professor. Call me Remus, please."
Harry blushed and nodded. Remus took a seat on the other side of Harry. They sat in silence for several moments. It was loaded. "Harry. You don't have to go back to the Dursleys." Sirius finally said. Remus's head popped up to look at him. His expression was unreadable to Harry.
"I don't? Really? You're sure?" Hope was blossoming in his chest.
At Sirius's smile, Harry launched himself at Sirius who hugged him for a long time. Remus reached over and rubbed his back. The resulting silence was nice, but Harry still had questions.
"What was my dad like?" He finally asked. Sirius and Remus smiled sadly at each other before launching into their tales.
He tiptoed into the room he was apparently sharing with Ron, wishing he had seen it earlier, so he would at least know where things were. He could hear the outline of a lump snoring and knew the other bed must be his. He hit his foot on the corner of his trunk and fell to the floor, cursing under his breath.
"Harry?" A voice asked through the dark.
"Yeah," Harry answered, at least he had found his trunk. It was silent as he got dressed in his pajamas and got into bed. He turned over, and it was quiet for a while before Ron spoke.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry sighed. He was tired of this fight.
"Are you really that surprised? I begged not to go back, and I begged to leave. I wasn't exactly shy with my stories either."
"I'm sorry, Harry. I wish there was something I could have done."
"Sirius said I don't have to go back." Harry was still feeling elation over that.
"That's great mate!" There was quiet, then, "we thought you'd tell us someday what it was." Ron said.
Harry sighed. "I will, when the time is right."
Ron was quiet. "I'm sorry, Harry. And if you don't want to tell us whatever it is, you don't have to."
He knew it wouldn't last, but Ron was trying. "Thanks, Ron."
There was the sound of rustling, and then Ron snoring. Harry fell asleep quicker than he had all summer.
Life at Grimmauld was pretty boring, but it was definitely better than the Dursleys. The younger crowd spent most of the day cleaning with Mrs. Weasley and Sirius. Sirius hated the house, he told Harry a little bit about his life before he left when he was sixteen. Harry found it comforting that someone understood some of what he was going through.
People had started giving him sympathetic looks when they thought he wasn't looking. It was almost enough to make him regret his outburst. Almost. The result was simply too satisfying.
When they weren't cleaning, they were talking about Harry's and Sirius's trials. Preparations for a trial were apparently pretty consuming. Harry had to go to the Ministry with a whole group of people to get briefed on what to do. A pretty, young prosecutor gave them some advice, went over what questions she was going to ask, and told them what to do and not do. It was rather exhausting in itself.
Finally, the day of Pettigrew's, and really Sirius's, trial came. Harry sat in the courtroom nervous as he had ever been. He opened and closed his palm, holding it for five then ten seconds, and that helped keep his anxiety at bay. It wouldn't do for him to have a panic attack right there in front of the entire Wizengamot. Draco had sent several letters to him over the summer, detailing what to expect from the trial.
Sirius, of course, was not there. If he showed up, the Aurors would stun first and ask questions later, if at all. His warrant for getting the kiss on sight was still effective, until he was cleared of all charges. First, however, Pettigrew would have to be proven to have committed the acts Sirius had been imprisoned for. He hoped the prosecution had everything they needed.
Just then, a banging could be heard, it echoed off the stone walls. "Order," came Fudge's voice. "Find your seats, please!" There was a scramble as seats were taken, then, "bring in the accused."
Harry leaned forward to catch a glimpse of Pettigrew. He was looking much thinner than the last time Harry had seen him. He was nervously looking around the room, as if looking for a friendly face. Harry was gratified that he didn't find one.
"You are, Mr. Peter Pettigrew, no known address?"
"Yes." Pettigrew squeaked.
"You stand accused of 13 counts of murder, 2 counts of conspiracy to commit murder, 1 count of evading the law, 1 count of treason, 1 count of belonging to the organization known as the Death Eaters, unknown counts of illegal spell usage, 1 count of kidnapping, 1 count of practicing dark arts, 1 count against the statute of secrecy, 1 count of being an illegal Animagus, and 1 count of falsification of legal documents." They were really tacking things on. "How do you plead?"
Pettigrew looked around one more time before taking a deep breath. "Not guilty."
There were gasps echoing around the room, then mutterings. Harry was stunned. The little rat was going to try to get out of it?
The gavel banged again. "Order, order in the courtroom. Mr. Pettigrew. Are you quite sure you would not like to enter a plea bargain, save us all some time? I can offer you a very fair deal."
"My client is innocent, Mr. Fudge, and we will prove it!" came a voice from the seats where the public was sitting. A thin man with slick, black hair and a goatee strutted up to Pettigrew.
"Ah, Mr. Morgan. Right on time, as usual." Fudge said, in a sarcastic voice. "Always one for drama. Very well. Your opening statement?"
"I am appalled and disgraced to have heard about all my client, Mr. Peter Pettigrew has had to go through. And before even hearing his story, you are writing him off as a Death Eater! Why, he doesn't even have the mark that all Death Eaters bear! He has been accused of some awful crimes, when all he was doing was trying to fight those forces of evil he stands accused of consorting with. It is a mockery of justice that he is even being tried in the first place. It is Sirius Black who has committed the crimes my client has been accused of, and I am going to prove it during these proceedings. I only hope the ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot will open their hearts to listen to my client. Thank you!" His voice was disgustingly slick, just as his hair. He had started out impassioned but got sadder and sadder the more his speech went on. Harry was amazed. Was anyone really buying that? He looked around, but the faces he saw were blank masks, similar to Draco's.
"Very well. The prosecution?"
A woman stepped forward, wearing dark grey dress robes with light blue stitching. It was Mary MacDonald, the woman that had prepared them a couple days previous. Harry had met her when she went over what to do and not do when he was being questioned. "Members of the Wizengamot, I stand before you today, a humble servant of the law. Justice has not been served, and I will tell you why. Fourteen years ago, an innocent man was placed under arrest for the crimes this man committed. Years later, he has only committed more crimes, making absolutely no contribution to society. This man worked for the Dark Lord known as You-Know-Who; he conspired to kill Lily and James Potter, two upstanding members of society with a small son, later killed 13 muggles, blowing up a street and risking our very way of life by flaunting the statue of secrecy. He then transformed into a rat and escaped through the sewers, leaving his friend to be accused of his crimes. He later kidnapped Harry Potter, injuring him in the process as he attempted to resurrect his master, the Dark Lord. This man is a danger to society, he cannot be let go. He must pay for the crimes he has committed, and he cannot be allowed to escape justice, again." With that, she took her seat. Harry wanted to applaud her but knew that wouldn't go well.
Several members of the Wizengamot nodded along with her, Harry found that comforting. No one had sympathized with Pettigrew, so that was a promising sign.
"Let's move along. Prosecution, your first witness."
"I call Harry Potter to the stand." There were murmurs again, this time louder, and hundreds of eyes watched Harry move from the chair in the middle of the room. He sat down, nervously and tried to think of what a normal thing to do with his hands would be.
"Hello, Harry. First things first, how are you doing today?"
"I'm alright. I'd be better if someone who is responsible for my parent's deaths weren't sitting so close to me."
"Objection!"
"Over-ruled. Continue, Miss MacDonald."
"Harry, you were only a year old when your parents died. Do you remember them, or any of their friends from the time?"
Harry's stomach constricted. "I only remember their last moments. I don't remember anything else about them."
Mary made a noise of sympathy. She had warned Harry about this question, to get sympathy points, she said. Harry wasn't sure that was necessary, but he saw many sympathetic eyes in the audience, so maybe she knew what she was doing. The questioning went on, Harry telling the court about what happened about a year ago when he, Ron, and Hermione had all heard Pettigrew confess to his crimes, then speaking very briefly about the graveyard. Harry had wanted to go into full detail, but Mary had said it was very, very important to Sirius's freedom that he not go into it fully, he could not say that Voldemort had been resurrected. The Wizengamot did not want to hear about it, and it might tip the scales out of their favor. All he said was that Pettigrew had been at the Death Eater 'meeting' and they had 'tried' to resurrect Voldemort. The crowd gasped when he said the name.
When it was time for the defense to question him, Mr. Morgan said he had no questions at this time. Harry thought that was rather strange. Mary called Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Kingsley and several members of the Order of the Phoenix, not that the Wizagomont knew that, who all testified that Pettigrew was guilty. Harry felt optimistic of how things were going, even if it did get a bit boring.
Finally, it was time for the defense to call witnesses. "I recall Harry Potter to the stand!" Morgan said, much louder than was necessary. He made his way cautiously over to the witness chair and waited for the first question.
"Mr. Potter. You survived a curse intended to kill you, that no one before or since has survived. Is that correct?"
"Objection! Relevance?" Mary said from her desk.
"I'm getting to that."
"Over ruled, but please stay on topic, Mr. Morgan, and get to the point quickly!"
Mary nodded to Harry, and he answered the question, "yes."
"I see. Now, Mr. Potter, on the occasion when Mr. Black illegally captured and held you and your friends—"
"Objection!"
"Never mind, I'll rephrase." Mr. Morgan looked pleased, almost doing a Malfoy smirk. Harry wondered if that's where he got it, it was like a cheap knockoff. "When Mr. Black confronted Mr. Pettigrew and you bore witness, did Mr. Pettigrew have a wand?"
Harry thought back. "If he did, I didn't see it. He didn't use it, except, maybe to escape? I didn't see how he got out of the ropes."
"Ah, I see, so either he didn't have his wand, and confessed under duress; or, he did have his wand, and didn't make any move against any of you!" There were mutterings around the courtroom again. "Mr. Potter, you said he got out of the ropes, who was it that tied him up?"
"Objection, relevance, again."
"I think it is very relevant if a group of people illegally held a wizard captive."
"We only did that so he wouldn't escape!"
"Under section 2 of the Citizen's Advocacy Amendment, good Samaritans are able to apprehend wizards or witches they believe to be doing harm, as long as they are treated with human decency."
"Mr. Potter, was Mr. Pettigrew treated with human decency?"
"Yes!"
"I call for a pensive viewing, this witness is unable to stick to his story, may be volatile, and the evidence must be seen."
"I'll allow it," Fudge said, looking excited. Harry was confused about what was happening, but Mary had a look of triumph on her face, and at it, Mr. Morgan looked concerned.
"This is a good thing," she whispered to him as she and several wizards approached him. "The prosecution isn't supposed to call upon memories, but you got him to, and I know it will show the truth." His memory was extracted, and the court watched as his memory played on a screen. Mr. Morgan looked angry, was whispering furiously to Pettigrew. Harry glared at the both of them.
When the memory was over, Mr. Morgan came back to the center of the room and began talking to Harry again. "Mr. Potter, the other occasion you claim to have happened occurred was when Mr. Pettigrew allegedly kidnapped you. Where did he take you?"
"To a graveyard."
"I see, and once you were there, what did he do?"
"He tied me up and started brewing this potion. I didn't know what it did, but he cut my arm, and used my blood in the potion." He raised his arm and showed the courtroom the scar on it. Madam Pomfrey had been unable to prevent it from scaring over, but Harry was not upset about that. On the contrary, he was happy to have a reminder of the incident. Like Draco had said, it was a physical reminder of what he had overcome.
"You said you didn't know what it did. What did happen as a result of this potion, Mr. Potter." Harry stayed silent. Mary placed her forehead in her hand, covering her face. "Mr. Potter?" Morgan baited, a gleam in his eye. "Did the potion succeed at bringing back the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who?"
Harry took a deep breath. "Yes." Gasps and some screams (really? Harry questioned) broke out among the crowd.
"Mr. Fudge, I call that this witness is delusional, and as such, has no business being a witness. I move that his testimony be stricken from the record."
"No! He's back, he's really back—"
"Objection!" Several voices spoke at once, drowning Harry out.
Fudge banged his gavel. "Order, order in the courtroom or this will become a closed trial!" When it quieted, Fudge leveled a look at Harry. "It is my opinion that this witness should be stricken from the record." Voices broke out again. Harry wasn't sure what was happening, he tried to argue over all the other voices, but two wizards wearing scarlet robes walked up to him and grabbed him by the elbows, escorting him out of the room.
The second the door closed behind him, the wizards let go of him and stood on either side of the door, glaring at him as if he were causing trouble. The door opened again, and out came Remus. "Harry," he said, coming up to him. "Don't worry about that, it was a dirty trick, and no one expected you to say anything but the truth. I have to go back inside in case they call me, you wait right here, and don't go wandering off, alright? There should be a break pretty soon, then I can take you home."
Harry nodded, and Remus went back into the room after nodding to the guards, who were still watching Harry. He walked a little further down the wall and kicked it angrily. "Oi!" one of the guards yelled at him, and he instead sank along it.
It just wasn't fair. All he was doing was telling the truth, and now, Pettigrew might walk free because of it.
The break did come pretty quickly, and Remus quickly escorted Harry back to Grimmauld Place before taking off again. Sirius was a bundle of nerves, he asked Harry how it went several times, even after Harry had told him every detail.
Close to dinner time, the group that left for the trial came back. It had gotten worse after Harry left. Mr. Morgan had tried to get all of the witnesses stricken from the testimony, and Fudge had finally caught on to what he was doing. He had also called two acquaintances of Pettigrew's from back in the day, who testified Peter was an upstanding citizen, working against Voldemort, not for him. That had hurt a bit, as had Morgan bringing up the fact that Sirius wasn't there, but the general consensus was the day had gone about as good as they were expecting. Harry was a little hurt at that, were they expecting him to fail?
They would be going back tomorrow for last minute deliberations and sentencing, if there was any. Harry couldn't bear the thought of that happening.
The day was wet and rainy, and Harry hoped it wasn't an omen for what was to come. The courtroom was even more packed than it had been the day before. There were people up against the walls and sitting on the steps. Harry tried hard to level his breathing, it was picking up, just a little. He opened and closed his palm, trying to regulate his anxiety.
Finally, the banging of the gavel came. "Order in the court!" Fudge called out. "What are all these people doing here? Aurors! Clear the chamber, anyone not in a seat needs to leave. The court will come to order." Harry closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Time went on. They had memories and witnesses, but no physical evidence. Everything from that time had been destroyed. The defense had a standing chance. Pettigrew could not get off. If he did, Sirius would have no chance for freedom, ever. He started shaking, just a little.
"You alright, Harry?" Came a voice to his left. Harry nodded jerkily, not bothering to open his eyes. He focused on Draco. Him and Draco, lying on the floor of their room, talking quietly and trading kisses. His breathing slowly evened out.
"We will now put it to a vote." Harry's eyes snapped open as his heartrate picked up again. "On the count of murder, all those in favor of innocence?" There were too many hands. Way too many. More than half, Harry felt his stomach drop out of his body. "And all those in favor of conviction?" There weren't enough hands. Harry felt something inside him snap.
Just as Fudge was opening his mouth, the gavel up in the air, Harry stood. Suddenly, all the focus was on him, but for once, he couldn't care. He was shouting. "Tell the truth, Pettigrew! You betrayed my parents and killed all those people! You lying bastard—!" The gavel was banging, people all around him were yelling, talking, pointing.
"Get him out of this courtroom! Aurors! Aurors!" Fudge was yelling. Two menacing Aurors approached Harry, who was still yelling at a white-faced Pettigrew. They pushed people out of the way, grabbing Harry's arms—
"I did it!" Came ringing around the courtroom. In the ensuring silence, Pettigrew sounded louder. "I betrayed Lily and James! I sold them out to the Dark Lord! I gave him secrets that resulted in deaths, we could have lost the war because of me! And I killed those muggles, Sirius was innocent! I sought out the Dark Lord, and I resurrected him! I did it, all of it!" Pettigrew went on, as Fudge banged his gavel, as the Aurors let Harry go, as people traded looks.
Harry gaped, amazed.
"You are… changing your plea?" Fudge asked, looking sick, after the room came to order several minutes later. Pettigrew nodded energetically. "Well then, I have no choice. Peter Pettigrew, I find you guilty of the crimes for which you are accused. Sentencing?"
Harry heard wobbling and buzzing in his ears but was unable to focus on anything but Pettigrew. Sounds came around him, but they made no sense, not until he heard, "…Sirius Black?" and his head shot up.
Fudge had an absolutely revolted look on his face. It was quiet in the courtroom. "All those in favor of acquitting Sirius Black of all charges?" Every hand went up. Every single one. Including Fudge's, after a moment of him realizing everyone else had. "Cleared." Fudge banged his gavel. "Of all charges. Sirius Black's warrant is recalled, allowing him his freedom. Weasley! Send a letter immediately, make sure the story gets into the evening prophet." He continued on with instructions, though quieter, as the courtroom erupted into talking. People were leaving, but Harry sat in his seat stunned.
After all this time, Sirius was finally free. Free.
Ron and Hermione had grabbed his arms, pulling him up, shouting their joy. A smile slowly spread across Harry's face as he finally realized this was real.
Grimmauld Place looked like it was brighter, somehow. Maybe it was all the cleaning, but he figured it was probably just his disposition. The group that had been celebrating the entire rid back quietened as they entered, weary of Mrs. Black's portrait. The second they were in the entryway, Sirius was there, he had run in in dog form.
"Well?" He demanded. "No one will tell me." He looked frantic as he stared at all of them. Remus pushed him forward.
Harry took a deep breath, unable to completely contain his smile. "You're free." He said simply, a little choked up. Sirius stared at him, open mouthed as he took several deep breaths.
He took in each of their faces, realizing they weren't playing a cruel joke. He took a deep, shuttering breath and covered his face with his hands. Harry took a step forward, a little worried about him. "I'm free." Sirius whispered from underneath his hands. Harry took another step forward and Sirius threw his arms around Harry.
Aww's went up around them, and there was some applauding, but Harry just hugged Sirius back, beaming.
The first thing Sirius did turned out to be stepping outside. He ran out the door and stood in the street, rain pouring down on him, his arms outstretched, head tilted up, laughing. Harry grinned as he watched him.
When Sirius did finally come back in, he declared he was going to get some ice cream. Several voices told him this wasn't a good idea, that he should wait until tomorrow, when news of him not being a criminal had spread. Sirius, however, laughed and said it would be alright.
"Come along, Harry, Remus, you can come if you want. Want some ice cream?"
"No, but I can't miss this. Are you sure I can't talk you out of it?"
"Nope! This is happening." Sirius hadn't stopped grinning as he ran up the stairs to change into his best robes, which were indeed rather fancy black robes that appeared to be velvet and topped off with a bowtie.
"I feel underdressed. We're just getting ice cream, right?" Harry asked as they walked out to the curb.
"Yeah. I just figured, for my first time going out…"
"Alright." That was fair enough. Remus just shook his head at his friend, which Harry had seen him do a lot.
They apparated to the alley just outside the entrance to Diagon alley. The reactions weren't immediate, but slowly people began paying attention to them, and whispers started to follow them along with horrified expressions.
Through it all, Sirius's grin stayed firmly in place. People started dodging out of the way, and a path cleared in front of them. They got to Fortescue's ice cream parlor, and faces turned towards them. As they approached the counters, tables started leaving, some leaving their ice cream behind.
"What do you want?" Mr. Fortescue asked in a shaky voice, up against the wall behind the counter.
He had meant it thinking Sirius was going to threaten him, but Sirius just put his hand up to his chin, stroking slowly. "I'm not sure. Harry, what are you getting?" He was perfectly calm.
Harry started snickering as Remus rolled his eyes. "I'd like a sundae, please." Harry said to Mr. Fortescue, starting to feel bad in the face of his terror. "Mr. Fortescue, have you met my godfather? He was just declared innocent by the Wizengamot, Peter Pettigrew turned out to have committed the crimes Sirius was accused of. Never got a trial, by the way."
Mr. Fortescue seemed to have calmed down considerably by the time he was done speaking. "Is that so."
"It's true." Remus said from behind Harry and Sirius.
Mr. Fortescue straightened, and walked up to the counter. "I see. Well then, congratulations, Mr. Black. I admired your efforts in the war, I was heartbroken when I heard what you had—allegedly—done. Always wished I had done more in the effort. What can I do for you, it's on the house?"
"Sirius, please, and I'll take—"
"Sirius Black. I should have known you'd get into trouble the second you were out of it." The door had opened without them noticing and there stood Mary MacDonald. She was shaking her head, arms crossed across her chest, still wearing her grey robes.
"Mary!" Sirius exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"You're lucky I'm not the Aurors. We received no less than 53 reports that you were in the Alley. You couldn't have waited for the evening prophet, at least? It's been less than an hour since you were declared innocent. Interesting, how quickly you found out," she said, her eyes going to Remus and Harry, who both shifted guiltily. Mary smiled.
"I've had twelve years imprisonment, and two years on the run. If I want to be in polite society again, I'm not wasting a single second." The temperature in the room declined. Mary stared for a couple seconds.
"Very well. I volunteered to give this to you, since you were found so quickly." She handed Sirius a piece of parchment with a smile.
"It's a certificate, saying I'm free." Sirius said in awe. "Thank you for bringing this." He added to Mary. She smiled. "And a letter from Mr. Fudge himself, wants to meet me tomorrow." Sirius looked to Remus before going back to Mary. "Do you have a minute? We were just about to have a celebratory scoop."
"As wonderful as that sounds, I need to get back to work, but, maybe a raincheck?" Her disposition had changed as well. She reminded Harry of McGonagall, strict but fair, now she was smiling brightly at Sirius, staring just a little. Harry frowned. If he wasn't mistaken, he was sure they were flirting.
For some reason, Remus was glaring, but he quickly wiped it away when Harry looked. Mary and Sirius traded slightly awkward goodbyes, completely forgetting Harry and Remus, and they finally ordered from a clearly amused Fortescue.
Sirius grabbed the table in the window, perhaps hoping to get more attention from passersby. They did.
"What was up with you and Mary?" Harry asked as he shoveled a scoop into his mouth.
"Oh, we dated for a bit at school, broke up, and then dated for a bit after school. Maybe it's time to start back up again." Sirius said with no embarrassment. Remus nearly knocked his bowl over.
"Oh?" He asked, trying to sound disinterested. Harry looked between them, not sure he should ask.
"Yeah. I mean why not? It's not like I have any other prospects at the moment."
Remus spat out his spoonful and started choking. Sirius wacked him on the back. Harry adjusted in his seat, uncomfortable.
Remus cleared his throat. "What about you, Harry? Have any girls you're sweet on?" Harry startled. He wasn't sure what to do.
"I, er—"
"Remus, look, is that Marlene?" Harry and Remus both looked at the window, as Remus was distracted, Sirius winked at Harry. "Ah, no, that's not her. Did I ever tell you that story about the time we went out? It could not have gone worse…" Harry was amazed at the smooth transition. Sirius was seriously cool.