A/N: This took a week and a half because my idea for a short crack fic has now evolved into a 500+ page google doc that crashes 50% of the time and which absolutely can't be worked on on my phone at the gym anymore.

It's absolutely WILD.

Cheers to all of you for getting us here! And I think based on how much more I have planned out…. We're going to need a new google doc before I go crazy.

February 1, 1982

Ministry of Magic, London

Courtroom 7

13:17

Agnes Granger nodded politely at Bertie Fenwick when he relinquished the floor, then reached deep into her briefcase and pulled out an absolutely enormous lawson chair with complete ease. The chair seemed to hover in the air right above her hands as she moved it to the front of the circular courtroom for her witnesses.

(This particular 'parlor trick', as Cassiopeia called it, was one of many possible results caused by the hours of charm work Isla and Cassiopeia put into all aspects of Agnes' courtroom appearance– everything from her underwear, to her briefcase, to its contents were capable of producing spectacular effects on as needed basis.

"You'll need the protection our magic can give. Remember, they'll make even the smallest things difficult for you, either intentionally or without thinking, and you'll look foolish if you can't rise to the occasion." Isla had paused meaningfully. "Do you really want them to use you as an excuse to keep muggles out of the wizarding world even longer?")

"I will now call for my first witness. Brittany Castillion, please enter."

A young woman stepped through the nearly hidden door on the right hand side of the floor, her long pink hair partially obscuring the golden Charms Mastery emblem embroidered on the front of her robes.

"Miss Castillion, if you would please introduce yourself for the court?"

"Certainly." The woman's faint french accent sent a ripple of surprise through the crowd. "My name is Brittany Castillion, and I am a Registered Charms Mistress employed by the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France. I have spent the past five years of my career studying soul magic and related charms, inclusive of what you would know as the Fidelius charm."

"Thank you. Miss Castillion, can you please describe the Fidelius charm and how it works?"

"Is that really necessary?" The crowd searched the room, hundreds of eyes finally settling on Thoros Nott perched near the front of the Wizengamot. "This is a magical ruling body— if the muggle needed an explanation, she should have gotten one before coming here."

"Now, now Thoros," Dumbledore twisted in his seat, bright eyes sparkling up at his previous student. "Patience is key– Madam Granger currently holds the floor, and you will have to indulge her selection of witnesses."

Thoros merely scowled.

Fenwick stood. "Minster, I too must object— I do not see how describing the fidelius charm will be beneficial to determining an outcome in this case."

Agnes turned away from her witness to appeal to the Minister directly. "Madam, I would like to remind my opposing counsel that my client is on trial for the following: the murder of muggles Charles Hooper, Shirley Pearce, William Christensen, John Matthams, Patricia Slater, Donald Carver, Ronald Lester, Carol Stone, James Eaton, Dai Gillespie, Mary Abraham, and Thomas Watkins; the murder of wizard Peter Pettigrew; and the aid and abatement of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the murders of James and Lily Potter by way of broken Fidelius Charm."

"Nott was right– everyone worthy of being here knows how the fidelius charm works." Otto Yaxley's disdainful glare cut into Agnes before it was turned on the Minister. "I personally recommend we avoid wasting our time and remove the… uneducated… All together."

Dumbledore shook his head reprovingly and went to speak, but Agnes beat him to it.

"My good sir, I'm sure every single person in this room is aware that the fidelius charm is an intricate charm which predates most spells commonly used by British wizards today. I am likewise certain that every single person in this room is aware of what the fidelius charm does, at least in theory. However, I am equally confident that less than five percent of you are as intimately acquainted with this charm as my witness Miss Castillion is." She paused, eyes moving from Yaxley to the Minister. "If we may proceed, and avoid any further accusations of wasted time?"

Minister Bagnold took a deep breath. "Please do."

"As I previously requested then– Miss Castillion, can you please describe the Fidelius charm and how it works?"

Brittany nodded cooly, proceeding as if there had been no interruption. "The fidelius charm is ancient. Most known records agree that it was initially chanted in Etruscan, which was one language of the Roman empire before the Roman Empire implemented the use of Latin across its territories. As we all should know, the Etruscan people's obsession with the soul and soul magic culminated in Herpo the Foul's experiments in 447 BCE."

(In the audience, Cassiopeia wiggled in her seat with enthusiasm better suited to an excited puppy. "What a fine specimen of a researcher— Pip, do be sure to genuinely thank the French Ministry for loaning her to us. I absolutely must invite her to tea so we can discuss..."

Isla hid her sigh behind one gloved hand.)

"The version of the fidelius charm that has evolved to exist today still relies completely on soul magic– both the casting, and the continuation of the charm's effect. When casting, the souls of those who wish to conceal something are weighed by magic, and success is dependent on their absolute trust in their selected Secret Keeper. The spell frequently fails in test trials and in reality when those who wish to conceal something have even the slightest doubt in their mind that the Secret Keeper selected will have their best interests at heart. When the charm does take effect, it relies completely on the Secret Keeper's soul to sustain itself. As long as the Secret Keeper lives the charm can continue, feeding off the Secret Keeper's soul which it is moored in."

A large number of people seemed distinctly uncomfortable at being confronted with the frank reality of the fidelius charm— soul magic was considered Dark by the British Ministry of Magic, but the fidelius charm had always been seen as Light magic with a positively Gryffindor appeal. It was almost impossible to resign themselves to this discrepancy.

Agnes paced across the room in front of her witness, waiting for the murmuring to quiet down before continuing. "How would the fidelius charm work, exactly, if used to hide a single location?"

"If the charm was cast successfully, the single location selected to be hidden would immediately become invisible, intangible, unplottable, and soundproof— magic would make it so that in the minds of those who previously knew of the location, it would cease to exist in memory and in the present."

"Can you explain what the Secret Keeper would have to do to protect this location after the spell was cast?"

"It would be very simple— so long as the Secret Keeper never verbalized or wrote down the location with the specific intent of sharing it with another person, the location would remain hidden."

"And if the Secret Keeper shared the location with someone? How would that affect the charm?"

"There are two scenarios in which the Secret Keeper could share the location. First, the Secret Keeper could share the location with another trusted individual who also has the confidence of the individuals who initially cast the charm. This would not negate the effect of the fidelius charm in any ways. Alternatively, if the Secret Keeper intentionally shared the location with someone who does not have the confidence of those who cast the charm, it could potentially cause the charm to fail without warning."

"Say we take the second scenario— what would happen when the fidelius charm failed?"

Brittany shook her head slowly. "The portion of the Secret Keeper's soul that had been responsible for housing the secret would be horribly, maybe even irreversibly, damaged. The Secret Keeper may feel horrible pain, but no one else would notice or be affected. There is no warning to the original casters of the charm— after all, building in a warning would serve to undermine their trust in the selected Secret Keeper."

Every eye in the room turned to Sirius Black, still detained in the center of the room. He grinned rakishly at them all, and someone whistled appreciatively from the audience.

He didn't look like his soul was damaged and causing him horrible, irreversible pain.

Agnes' lips twitched upward. "Thank you Miss Castillion. That concludes my line of questioning."

Bertie Fenwick did not have much to add during his cross examination— as the woman had done little but speak factually about a single charm, one which he himself was no expert in, there was very little to disprove or discredit. After fettering out her Charms Mastery scores, the name of her mentor, and a short list of sources that could prove her statements, he dismissed Brittany Castillion to the crowd.

It was to her credit that Agnes did not make a parting comment to the Wizengamot about the percentage of the information provided about the fidelius charm that they had already known. Instead, she turned to call her next witness.

January 21, 1982

Longmoore Street, London

"Sirius, I need to know every detail of your relationship with the Potters and with Pettigrew. Every detail. Do you understand why?"

Sirius peered at his recently acquired great Aunt over the arm of the couch he'd ceremoniously draped himself across for their meeting. A single dark curl fell over his stormy eyes as he frowned. "Because of the opposing counsel, and their cross examination, right?"

Agnes sipped her odd Californian wine and nodded. "Precisely. I do not tolerate my clients withholding information that could embarrass me in court— and to be clear, any lack of information could embarrass me in court. It's much better if you tell me every single detail now, and we build your case with a healthy appreciation of potential weaknesses."

Sirius' frown deepened. "I completely understand, Madam Auntie Arse Kicker, but I haven't the foggiest idea where to start. Told the mind healers the same thing."

"And what did they suggest?"

"Starting wherever I thought was important. We've skipped around a lot."

Agnes sighed and finished her glass. "New plan then— When did you first meet James Potter?"

Sirius brightened instantly, bounding up on the couch. "The Hogwarts Express, our first year."

"Lovely– start there."

Over the course of four hours and three bottles of wine, Agnes pried the details of the Marauders' time at Hogwarts and in the real world from Sirius. She was careful not to comment initially when he recounted their pranks, only humming noncommittally as they progressed in both size and risk. Agnes stayed silent when Sirius begrudgingly described the horrendous choices he had made in his sixth year, nodded encouragingly as he spoke of the prejudice he had faced in Auror training thanks to his last name.

Eventually, the young man— still a child, really, Agnes thought for the thousandth time— ran out of steam and sat staring morosely into his glass.

"Thank you, Sirius. I'd like to start by asking you if you could identify your case's own weaknesses."

Sirius eyed her warily. "Well, I made the mistake of doubting Remus and trusting Peter. I was the one who suggested that Peter be the Secret Keeper, and it was my recommendation that we not tell anyone– even Dumbledore– about the switch. And it was my job to submit the documentation from Harry's godparent ceremony, but I put it off so there's no official record that the magical bonding occurred. Erm…. does that cover it?"

Agnes smiled. "Not by half."

"What?!"

"Let me explain. The first mark against you was bullying— you cannot deny that a lot of your pranks relied on someone else's embarrassment. You may not have seen it that way at the time, and much of it may have been truly harmless, but we must face your potential weaknesses square in the face. And I am afraid that there is a lot of research out there that suggests bullying during an individual's youth is correlated with increased likelihood of committing violent crimes later in life."

"But that's not– I mean to say we didn't mean to– No one except—,"

"The second mark against you— and this is a big one— would be two counts of attempted pre-meditated murder."

"WHAT?!"

"What else would you consider sending a fellow sixteen year old— a fellow child— into a werewolf's full moon safe house? What else would you consider risking a young werewolf's life— because werewolves are 'put down' when they attack wizards, you know. Remus Lupin would have been as good as dead the second Severus Snape died." Agnes paused, shaking her head. "Just because the Headmaster elected to protect you all, does not mean that a serious crime was not committed."

Sirius looked horribly uncomfortable. "I know it was awful. James made me see that about two seconds after I admitted what I'd done. And I guess… in all honestly, I guess that's one of the reasons it was so easy to think Moony was the traitor. Because I'd already hurt him, and maybe he would still want revenge for that— he wouldn't of course, Moony's too….. He took a month to forgive me, but when he said we were good, he meant that."

"Remus forgave you. Severus Snape did not."

Sirius looked up with shocked eyes. "But Dumbledore swore him to secrecy, and he works for Dumbledore now!"

"I don't think you should make assumptions about what will or what won't be dragged out in court, Sirius." Agnes waited for his face to flicker through several emotions: regret, frustration, anger, then remorse. She made a mental note to owl his mind magic team about this particular conversation before continuing. "Strong reactions color a good number of your weak points for this trial— your reputation as a dangerous freedom fighter who stopped cooperating with the Auror department, your reaction to bigots determined to dislike you based on your last name, your rash actions following Peter's betrayal."

Sirius had the grace to flush at that last item. "I admit I wasn't thinking clearly— but can you blame me?"

"The only thing you would say to anyone was 'it was all my fault'- I'm all for a good mea culpa, but—,"

"The mind healers say it was the shock," Sirius sniffed, "And I would remind you that arresting me was still illegal."

Agnes' eyes rolled towards the ceiling as she contemplated calling Alphard's house elf for anything stronger than wine– like good tea. Deciding that it might be deemed a tad unprofessional, she continued. "Your next major weak point was Harry Potter's godparent ceremony."

"Wait, that? What?"

February 1, 1982

Ministry of Magic, London

Courtroom 7

14:20

"Ladies and gentlemen, I will introduce my next witness following a brief reminder that one charge that Sirius Black stands accused of today is the betrayal of the Potter family— his dear friends James and Lily, as well as his godson Harry. For the official record, I will now note that a magical godparent bond has dozens of special conditions built into it, all of which revolve around the protection of the child in question. One of the most common is removal of the godparent's magic or life if they endanger their charge in any intentional way. Armed with this knowledge, I now welcome—,"

"Objection! Leading statements based on mere conjecture should not be kept on the record."

"Respectfully, this is not mere conjecture, Minister."

"Oh?" Minister Bagnold looked thoughtful. "And you can prove that?"

"Of course this muggle can't— she shouldn't even be speaking to what a magical godparent ceremony entails! Muggles can't comprehend such magic." Walter Crabbe, still built like an elephant even in his old age, glowered down at the courtroom floor. "Minister, I insist that you keep this creature from wasting any more of our time."

"That's enough out of you, sir." Muriel Prewett's dark look shone across the sea of matching Wizengamot robes. "I do believe our Minister can make decisions without your bad manners fogging up the room."

Bagnold glanced from one elderly Wizengamot member to the other, suppressed exasperation clear in the lines around her eyes. "Granger, please continue. I'll give you three minutes to convince me not to have your prior statement struck from the record as conjecture."

"Thank you, Minister. In response to my opposing counsel's statement I believe it is only fair that I do clarify that without a collaborating witness to confirm the event, my prior statement would have been purely conjecture. And as these godparent ceremonies are intensely private, involving the parents, godparents, and child only, I do acknowledge his concern. However, for my next witness… Alice Longbottom, could you please join us?"

January 16, 1982

The Rook, Ottery St. Catchpole

Pandora Lovegood blew a single long strand of hair out of her eyes, shock painted across her sharp features.

It would seem that the so-called 'safety precautions' implemented by the Black family house elf over the past two days had been necessary after all.

Unfortunate.

Pandora reached out a finger to test the glowing bubble of magic that had sprung into existence around her before she had even realized that the ritual she was trialing had gone wrong. The thick, transparent gelatinous substance it was made of bounced and rippled at her touch before slowly beginning to melt away.

Glancing around her laboratory, she was particularly shocked by the minimal damage to the room itself. Her potions and work tables and even bookshelves were safely tucked behind protective shells of magic. The structural integrity wards across the ceiling were sparkling and red, a clear measurement of the damage they had avoided, but no plaster or stone rained down from above. In fact, only the floor showed any particular damage.

But it was particularly shocking damage.

Ash and soot covered the space that Pandora had drawn out her ritual block, and char marks were burned deep into the floor. The exact space that Pandora had been channeling magic into looked like it had taken the brunt of the explosion.

"Goodness," Madam Lovegood murmured. "I really may have blown myself up. Dear Xeno will be positively intrigued by how I managed not to once he stops fussing."

(Several miles down the road where she had been dropped into a playpen with Ginny Weasley, little Luna Lovegood released a much put upon sigh. Molly Weasly promptly provided her with a teething ring which, while not nearly as satisfying as the realization that one was not doomed to be raised by a single ridiculous father, did satisfy her more basic needs.)

She vanished what she could of the mess and released the magical protections covering the rest of the room before reviewing the exact steps she had taken prior to the explosion. The actual layout of the room should have been perfect… was it the ingredients she was using, or the sheer amount of magic needed, or—

Pandora scratched out a series of quick arithmancy calculations, waiting patiently for her results to appear on the paper as she considered what it would mean if the ritual was not working because she was targeting the wrong thing.

No wonder St. Mungos had been useful.

The delightful chorus of bells that signaled the arrival of her visitors rang out just as the results finished scrawling themselves out across the paper. Pandora smiled widely— it seemed she would have something to show them after all.

January 29, 1982

The Rook, Ottery St. Catchpole

"Malfoys take care of family. This is tolerable because Malfoys always," Lucius Malfoy paused his muttering to look up at the Rook in dismay. "Merlin. Narcissa, must I really?"

"Lucius, do I ever give you direction for no reason?"

Lucius very wisely stuck to a minute shake of his head. "My love, I simply fail to see how torturing me with these…. People…. is beneficial to you."

Narcissa raised a single lovely brow, her smile as sharp as ice. "Really, Lucius, torture?"

"Tor-ture." Draco, perched on his father's arm, sounded out the word carefully.

"Very good my sweet little dragon! That was a perfect hard 'r'. Now let's let you and your father begin your playdate, shall we?"

Her husband spluttering helplessly beside her, Narcissa reached out to ring the Rook's front bell.

"The shouting up there is rather distracting." Andromeda glanced up at the ceiling of Pandora Lovegood's laboratory and tensed when she heard her own husband's raised voice.

Pandora merely shrugged. "If there's one thing I've learned watching my dear Xeno and his cousin, it's that posturing is not only for peacocks. Still, I would rather not cast a silencing charm— better to know what they're up to, isn't it?"

Glancing up from her potions work, Narcissa gave a particularly disdainful little sniff. "Up to? What are they, Gryffindors? Cast the silencing spell, Madam, and let us all focus— today may well be the day."

Sighing, Pandora complied before resuming her work on the floor, where she had begun sketching out a huge runic circle with Andromeda's careful assistance. "I suppose you're right– we only have a few days left to perfect this before your cousin's trial."

"And we are incredibly grateful you've dedicated yourself to finding an immediate solution for that particular issue."

"I see the importance. This is only the smallest step towards our long term goals, but…"

The three mothers fell to working in silence, their minds preoccupied by the idea of two small boys, each who had been deprived of his parents.

February 1, 1982

Ministry of Magic, London

Courtroom 7

14:30

Alice Longbottom was brought into the courtroom in a modified wheelchair, seemingly asleep as her head lolled back against a small mountain of maroon pillows. The audience and then Wizengamot alike were muttering, loudly, some shocked and some angry. It was clear (to Agnes, at least) that had it not been for Madames Malfoy, Tonks, and Lovegood standing behind the recently disabled woman, all hell would have broken loose.

As it was….

"What is the meaning of this?" Georgina Flint sounded genuinely horrified, her Wizengamot hat nearly falling off of her head as she recoiled back in her seat. "Do you mean to display this poor woman as some form of evidence? Shame on you! Shame!"

"Madam Flint, you speak as if you believe I would have ever allowed my daughter-in-law to be treated like either a lab rat or a circus monkey." Every eye turned to Augusta Longbottom. "The audacity of you yourself!"

"She isn't even conscious!"

"Silence!" Minister Bagnold smacked down her hands. "Granger, this interruption will not affect the three minutes I have given you."

"Thank you. Ladies and gentlemen, this past fall, Alice Longbottom and her husband suffered extended torture, primarily via unforgivable curse, which rendered her unable to communicate anything other than ongoing pain when not heavily dosed with potions. However, after several months of multi faceted treatment, many of Madam Longbottom's worst symptoms have been alleviated. While she has not yet been restored to her original capability set, and there is a long road ahead of her, thanks to her care team she will be able to act as a witness to Harry Potter's godparent ceremony today." Agnes gestured to each of Alice's attendants respectively. "Madam Longbottom's primary care team consists of Andromeda Black, Narcissa Malfoy, and Pandora Lovegood. I will request that—,"

Loud chatter erupted from the stands. Casper Doge, voice thick with contempt, spoke over them all. "The sisters of the woman who rendered Longbottom to this state are the ones supposedly caring for her now? Everyone here remembers the inseparable Black sisters! Why would anyone believe that—,"

"Bellatrix Lestrange holds no tie to the Black family, nor is any of the extended Black family moved to act in her name," Lucius Malfoy's voice cut across the older man's like ice. "Must I remind you what it means to be truly disinherited by magic?"

(Narcissa's eyes gleamed bright on the court room floor below. She did so enjoy the reminder that her husband was more than just a pretty face— he was a politically savvy pretty face. Later, she would give him the opportunity to show off some of his other skills as a reward.)

Agnes continued with no comment on the interruption. "I will now request that the medical team themselves explain what is about to occur."

As planned (and practiced, repeatedly, over the past days), Andromeda Tonks stepped forward. "We will now begin a ritual designed to allow every single person in this courtroom today to view Alice Longbottom's memory of the ceremony during which she was magically named as Harry Potter's godmother. Madam Malfoy will be monitoring the patient closely and ensuring her absolute comfort throughout, and Madam Lovegood and myself will be guiding the memory to you."

Pandora cast a spell, and a series of runes lit up around Alice's chair. Narcissa stepped into a small glowing circle directly beside Alice and began chanting a series of ongoing monitoring charms.

"Following the display, the defense and the prosecution will have a combined three minutes to ask follow-up questions of Madam Longbottom. We will restrain you from anything additional to safeguard our patient's health. If Madam Longbottom's health or comfort is not able to be confirmed by Madam Malfoy at any point during this procedure, we will end it immediately. If the prosecution or defense deliberately antagonizes Madam Longbottom, we will end it immediately. If the audience is crass or loud or otherwise potentially upsetting to Madam Longbottom, we will end it immediately." Andromeda's dark look around the room was nearly as unnerving as Bellatrix's had once been. "Are there any questions from any individual here prior to us beginning?"

(Ted Tonks was the only one unaffected by this clear threat. He gave a particularly besotted sigh while saner heads shook rapidly all the way around the room.)

"Wonderful– let us begin. Madam Lovegood?"

Pandora stepped to the top of the ritual circle she had created around Alice and raised her wand high in the air. Her mouth moved rapidly, but no actual sound came out. The thick stickiness of raw magic slowly permeated the room, swirling in around the circle in a visible grey tornado that rotated around Alice.

As the magic spiraled, it grew flatter and flatter, taller and wider, so that by the time it finally slowed to a stop directly over Alice Longbottom's head it resembled nothing so much as a muggle projector screen.

Andromeda stepped forward then, and kneeled down directly beside Alice Longbottom's carefully cushioned head. She raised her own wand and tapped it gently to the immobilized woman's temple.

"Hello, Alice. This is Andromeda Tonks. It's a pleasure to be here with you again. We are going to go through some of your memories again today– a healer is watching over you closely, so if anything is too much, we'll stop at once, ok? Now Alice, I'd like you to remember Lily Evans the first time you saw her."

The expression on Alice's face seemed to flicker, as if her eyes were wildly active behind closed lids. The corners of her lips twitched almost imperceptibly. And then….

A thin silver stream, clearly a memory, rose to meet Andromeda's wand. She directed it carefully towards the massive cloud of magic that Pandora was powering, where it very slowly expanded out into the silvery image of a young girl.

Young Lily Evans was sitting on a short stool in the center of Hogwarts' Great Hall, and the sorting hat was being dropped right on her head. Barely a second passed before the hat cried out, "Gryffindor!"

The scene collapsed back into a silvery strand that Andromeda gently directed back to Alice's opposite temple.

"That was beautiful. You were in the same year, weren't you? I imagine you must have had all sorts of lovely adventures together at Hogwarts. And then to stay friends after! Alice, can you remember when you and Lily found out you were both pregnant?"

Another silvery strand emerged, only to be directed upwards towards the mass of magic. As soon as it hit the cloud it stretched and expanded to form a wonderfully domestic little scene.

Lily Potter (for by then she had been married a year and a half) was sitting on a kitchen counter, feet swinging, carefully peeling apples with a sharp knife. Sitting at the table before her was Alice, rolling out a thick pie crust.

Lily was squirming something fierce, and Alice kept glancing at her over one shoulder with patient amusement. Finally–

"Ok, so, James and I agreed not to tell anyone until we were out of the first trimester, but…. Merlin, Alice, I absolutely have to talk about it, and James is too worried to be useful, and— we're pregnant!"

Alice dropped the rolling pin.

Lily's face sank at her friend's shocked expression, and her shoulders dropped. "I– oh, Alice, you aren't upset are you? I know you've been trying, too, but—,"

"We're pregnant!"

"Well, yes, I only found out last weekend for sure, but—,"

"No, Lils— we are pregnant!" Alice started laughing, bouncing up and down and pulling Lily off the counter into a tight hug. "I found out yesterday, and we haven't wanted to tell anyone either, and I was literally just standing here trying to think of how I could not tell you, and— Lily, we're both—!"

The scene slowly dissolved, and Andromeda carefully guided it back to its owner. "What a beautiful memory to have Alice. It must have been so fun to share that moment with someone as close as a sister to you. Now Alice, can you remember after the boys were born? It was such an exciting, exhausting time— I remember being a new mother, it certainly is a lot of work. Which is why we rely so much on godparents. Alice, can you remember Harry's godparent ceremony specifically?"

Alice's face tightened for a brief moment, and Narcissa was quick to cast several calming spells on the woman to decrease her slowly rising heart rate. Finally, a much thicker stream of silver rose to meet Andromeda's wand and be sent into Pandora's cloud of magic.

Five figures slowly appeared in the middle of a brightly lit greenhouse: James and Lily Potter with their young son, Sirius Black, and Alice herself. They sat in a loose circle: James across from Sirius, Alice across from Lily, Harry swaddled in the center. The floor was decorated with rune work, all smudgy from memory, and the sound of laughter immediately rang through the air.

"You do realize, Black, that you're taking all of the crummy godparent duties? I have a tiny urchin of my own to handle– one makes enough nappies." Alice grinned impishly at Sirius. "Hope you can handle it."

Sirius groaned. "Prongs already makes me change nappies every time I visit."

"Be fair, Sirius– you visit every day. You don't qualify as a real guest anymore." Lily reached out a finger to her child. "But with any luck, dirty nappies will be the most strenuous thing this bond ever requires of you."

Suddenly quite serious, Alice and Sirius exchanged a long look. "We've agreed completely on what to swear."

"Have you? I need tips when we are done then! I still need to talk to Gideon a bit more about the specific wording we use for Neville." Lily's face brightened, and she sat back. "Shall we begin then?"

A chorus of agreement greeted her question, and Lily pulled out her wand. She laid the tip alongside her palm on her son's forehead. "I, Lily Evans Potter, am the mother of this child. I ask that magic bind him to two souls that I truly believe will care for him with the same depth and intensity that his father and I have. I ask that magic bless these bonds for the entirety of my child's life."

James brought his hand to rest alongside Lily's on the crown of Harry's head, his wand tip alongside hers. "I, James Potter, am the father of this child. I ask that magic bind him closely to the two souls that his mother and I have determined will best guide him on his path. I ask that magic hold these two souls true to my son for the remainder of their lives."

Alice and Sirius crossed their wands directly over James and Lily's clasping their hands directly over Harry's heart.

"I, Sirius Black—,"

"I, Alice McKinnon Longbottom—,"

"-Seek to become the godparents of this child. We have been selected by his parents to be Harry Potter's trusted companions. We ask that magic bond us to him, individually and together, so that we might be aware when he needs us. We ask that magic prove our bond true, as we are prepared to love this child as our own. We ask that magic support us in protecting him from anyone or anything that may desire to cause him harm, and swear to forsake our own lives for him if needed. We swear on our own magic to honor the bond given to us for the duration of our lives, else our lives will end."

Bright light illuminated the greenhouse as Alice and Sirius drew to a close, rushing in to form bright red chords that leashed Harry to each godparent and which slowly faded into their skin. When the magic finally cleared away, Lily and James' mouths were gaping open.

"That was…. That was absolutely beautiful."

"Black here fancies he's a poet," Alice smirked when Sirius spluttered, then looked seriously at her best friend. "We mean it. We really mean it. We would give our lives or our magic or both before we let harm come to this child— we didn't need a magical bond to enforce that, but having one there makes you feel a little warmer inside, right? And we thought it may make him feel a little warmer inside the older he gets, too."

"Plus, the godparent ritual is pretty ancient— it's a lot stronger if you offer up something valuable to you as collateral. And what's more important than life and magic?" Sirius reached out and swooped Harry into the air. "Besides motorcycles, of course. Right, little man? Vrrrooooommmm!"

The memory folded in on itself suddenly, as if it had reached its maximum run time before being complete, and Andromeda was quick to reach out her wand and catch it to avoid any tiny detail being lost from Alice's mind forever.

"Thank you so much for sharing that memory with us Alice. I imagine that was a great deal of fun, and you clearly were quite serious." Andromeda stood carefully. "Questions?"

"None, thank you. My opposing counsel can utilize the brief time provided for questions."

Fenwick stepped forward cautiously, professional despite the clear awe and intrigue in his eyes at the spectacle before him. It would take more than three and a half minutes to ask all of the questions he had, and none of them were truly for Alice Longbottom— the Ravenclaw in him was clawing to get out and figure out exactly how this projected memory worked.

Instead of following that line of question, however—, "Can Madam Longbottom confirm that Black fully agreed with the words spoken?"

Andromeda crouched back down. "Alice? Can you remember when you and Sirius first discussed your godparent bonds?"

The sliver of memory that this question produced showed Sirius and Alice sitting across the table from one another in the Longbottom homes' kitchen. Frank sat beside them, holding a squirming Neville, and books were piled high around them all.

"I'm not sure if I have ever seen you be this serious in your life," Frank commented, and his wife immediately groaned.

"Don't say—,"

"Serious? Why Frankie, I've been Sirius since the day you met me," Sirius winked across a heavy, ominous looking tome, then shrugged. "This is about the most important thing I think I'll ever be asked to do, you know. Not a lot of people have any faith in me, but Prongs and Lils…. They think I'm the right person to protect their kid. Their kid. I just want to do it right."

Alice's face softened, and she leaned forward to point at a section of the book. "Well then, this bit is particularly heavy— how about we include it?"

The scene spiraled back into Alice's mind with Andromeda's gentle encouragement, and Andromeda turned to face Fenwick again. "Anything else?"

"Nothing for Madam Longbottom at this time."

Andromeda nodded, and leaned back to say, "Thank you, Alice, I look forward to speaking with you again soon." Then she stepped away from the chair, raised her wand, and carefully helped Pandora end the spell (they had determined, finally, that two people canceling the spell was the only way to keep the room from exploding).

As the trio of escorts carefully wheeled Alice away, Fenwick stood. "I would like to object to the testimony that we just received, as, despite the opportunity to cross-examine, there is no proof that the memory was not tampered with, that the memory was not implanted, or that the memory belonged to Madam Longbottom at all."

The Minister paused. "The spells used are unknown to us, however, your objection is late to be noted."

Fenwick flushed, well aware that his own interest in exactly how the trick had worked had distracted him from his duty.

"Instead of striking this testimony from the record, I would like your objection to be maintained as an official note of concern." Minister Bagnold waved a hand at one of the scribes. "And I will add the official request for an explanation of the magic used, to be submitted to the Department of Mysteries."

"Thank you, Minister."

"Granger, can you continue?"

"Certainly— my final witness will be my client himself. Sirius, please describe the following events: the selection of a secret keeper for the Potters, the night of their murder, and your last encounter with Peter Pettigrew."

Remus was getting anxious.

It wasn't the trial itself— no, that was going well, as far as he could tell. His father's partner, Fenwick, had been right to be concerned about this case. It wasn't even Snape's 'anonymous' testimonial, though that had brought up quite a few feelings that Remus considered better off repressed.

No, it was the realization that the second that Sirius stopped talking about what had really happened after James and Lily were murdered, he would see Peter again.

Sort of.

Maybe.

If things went well.

"...immediately after Peter screamed at me, he cast a spell that caused a massive explosion. He then used what I assume was a basic severing charm to remove his finger before transforming into his animagus form and dropping himself into the sewer system to escape."

"Thank you, Mr. Black. I will turn over questioning to my co-counsel now while I prepare my next piece of evidence."

Fenwick was, Remus noted grudgingly, at least well prepared to batter Sirius with questions. He questioned every single detail of what Sirius had explained, from why he would hand over his godson if he had sworn to protect him, to his statement that Pettigrew was an animagus, to how he would know dark magic had been cast.

Sirius was nearly in tears by the time he was done, but Remus still could not think of anything other than: We're going to see Peter again.

There was a part of Remus that wanted nothing more than to murder Peter— he considered that to be the wolf. The more rational part of him knew it would not be any help, and it would probably be bad for Sirius and Harry. There was some question in Remus' mind over which of these two sides of him would prevail when he saw Peter's face.

"I would now like to direct the court's attention to the statut de vie potion on the table." Agnes had indeed pulled a large cauldron from her bag, sloshing full of a bright pink liquid. "This potion was created in 1951 to help ascertain the status of missing witches and wizards— it has been used frequently during recent wars, hostage situations, and in other instances of disappearance."

We're going to see Peter again.

"The potion requires that a piece of the individual being inquired about– in our case, Peter Pettigrew— be dropped in directly. If the potion turns black, the individual is dead. If the potion turns white, they are alive."

We're going to see Peter again.

"I have prepared a sample of Peter Pettigrew's hair, collected from his mother. However, I am happy to instead utilize the finger, or a portion of the finger, provided by the prosecution as further proof that the sample belongs to Pettigrew."

There was a brief bout of shouting around the room over the ethics of this— what if Pettigrew was a hero? You couldn't drop a hero's leftover finger in a potion!- before finally the Minister smashed down her gavel and left the final choice to Fenwick.

Fenwick paused, but Remus could tell by the man's expression that he knew a good trap when he saw one. If Fenwick outrightly refused, it meant he thought the potion would possibly work. If he agreed, he risked being unable to deny the potion's results.

Fenwick agreed.

As if through a pool of thick, red tinged water, Remus watched the finger be summoned and slowly hovered over the potion before dropping in.

He held his breath.

Slowly, color began leaching out of the bright potion. It went from bright pink, to pale mauve, to a subtle rose pink, and finally….

White.

Chaos abounded once more– the Department of Mysteries came and confiscated the entire cauldron, the Minister turned pale, and Amelia Bones gestured for one of her Aurors (likely to put out notice about Pettigrew being alive amongst her entire team). Fenwick was objecting loudly, saying that Pettigrew may have run even if he wasn't the one who had caused the explosion— perhaps he was afraid of Sirius. Agnes was smiling viciously, responding with questions of her own: Why, then, had he not come forward when Sirius was imprisoned? Where was he now?

And then she had more evidence to share, and Remus was full on panicking (not outwardly, of course, only on the inside) because it was time.

We're going to see Peter again.

"This second potion I have brought today uses a piece of the person you are inquiring about to show you an image of them in the present moment. As we have already utilized Peter Pettigrew's finger, I will now use his hair sample."

Agnes dumped a vial of mousey blonde hair into the second potion she had procured from her briefcase. It snapped and fizzed and bubbled for several long minutes before evaporating and rising up into the air, where it formed into a large image.

Peter Pettigrew stared out at the crowd like a ghost, transparent despite the bright colors the potion cast him in. He was thinner, more beaten down than he had appeared in the last images of him printed in the Daily Prophet, but it was undeniably him.

The rational part of Remus' mind considered that Peter did, in fact, look like a man with a damaged soul causing him horrible pain. The Wolf insisted that this was not enough. Peter Pettigrew owed them the debt of betrayal.

Remus stared at the image, transfixed, nails digging deep into his thighs as if to keep himself from launching out of his seat at the projection. The crowd was roaring around him, but it felt far away.

It was suddenly clear to him why Sirius had reacted so terribly, had gone to hunt this… this person…. Down. At that moment, seeing him, the full weight of Peter's choices came crashing down around the young werewolf, and Remus desperately wished he would have gone with Sirius.

Wouldn't help Sirius. Wouldn't help Harry. Wouldn't benefit the Pack.

Closing his darkening eyes, Remus thought of the people he had left to live for, slowly leaching the hatred from his own mind. Wouldn't help Sirius. Wouldn't help Harry. Wouldn't benefit the Pack.

Below him, unnoticed on the floor, Agnes Granger bowed very briefly to her audience. "As you can see, there is no doubt that Peter Pettigrew is alive. Based on this, and based on the evidence presented here today, I believe it is clear that my client Sirius Black was framed by Peter Pettigrew for all murders and treachery he stands accused of. I will now close for the presentation of witnesses and evidence to await judgment."