Apologies to Ravenclaw House for mistaking an obnoxious prat like Zacharias Smith for a Ravenclaw last chapter. Kindly ignore my idiotic mistake.
Also, certain words, (Thank you for pointing it out, PurebloodScion), get 'corrected' to an incorrect spelling. My auto-correct when I type fast seems to be worse than Google translate. Either that or I'm an idiot.
But, here's the chapter.
Harry gasped for air as he finished his latest spell in the Room of Requirement, sweat dripping from his face.
The last month had involved him training the more risque spells in his arsenal that he didn't want prying eyes to know about.
The targets in front of him were scorched and ripped to pieces, more taking their place.
Taking his hands off his knees, he twirled his wand in a complex pattern, his face contorted into a focused look.
A large amount of water was conjured and he focused it in front of him.
The jet of water then began spinning like a hurricane, being hurled at the targets, his wand twirling in a circle to keep it rotating.
As it caught the targets, he sent an overpowered freezing charm at the artificial storm, the water freezing completely solid.
He then sent a blasting curse at it, the loud shattering sound of the ice almost deafening, but he wasn't done. He whipped his wand upward and yanked back, pulling the shattered ice towards him, a flick of his wand turning the ice into dagger shapes, another flick sending them back at the already shredded targets.
The targets fell to the ground in pieces, being unable to hold up to the constant assault.
Harry stowed away his wand and staggered to a sofa that appeared when he thought of one, collapsing onto it.
He caught his breath after a minute, getting up and stretching his limbs a little to ward off any cramps. Wandlessly summoning his bag to him, he pulled open something that was normally contraband, but he'd brewed it with some of the ingredients that he had access to for potions class.
A Pepper-up potion.
He downed it in one gulp, feeling better after a few seconds.
He made sure to be cleaned up and presentable, for Hogsmeade was today.
Each Friday, he and Daphne would talk in the Room of Requirement, just about different things, mostly about each other's likes, dislikes, and interests, things like that. He'd shared a lot about himself, including one or two details about some of the rumours that occurred during his first three years of schooling, especially the basilisk.
But last Friday marked when Daphne had agreed to talk with him in a more public setting, specifically Hogsmeade. She gave him a frosty look and preemptively told him they were not going to even go near the general vicinity of Madam Puddifoots before he could even make a joke about it.
He was too lazy to walk to the showers and clean himself, so he just stripped and doused himself with water from his wand and followed that up with an overpowered cleaning charm that left his skin itching for a few seconds, using a drying spell on himself afterwards.
One fresh set of clothes to get put on instead of his sweaty ones later, and he was ready to get to Hogsmeade.
He exited the room and met up with the others heading to Hogsmeade at the front of the castle, Hermione and Ron spotting him.
"Harry," Hermione gave him a speculative look, "You're looking-" she trailed off as her eyes narrowed and she looked at him more closely.
He'd made the effort of looking more presentable, his hair being a little more tidied and his clothes weren't the baggy ones that he'd gotten from Dursleys. They were ones he'd been forced to get, courtesy of Sirius.
Speaking of his godfather, the trial was scheduled for tomorrow, something that had him both excited and concerned. On one hand, there was no chance of Fudge trying to pull something, especially with the fact that Sirius had no trial, the dementor fiasco had him reeling, and more than a few people had been asking about why Cornelius Fudge, a close friend of Lucius Malfoy, would be so resistant to giving a trial to the presumptive Lord Black. The loud proclamations of possible Line Theft would be enough on their own to make sure Fudge kept his head down and muscle through the trial as quickly as possible.
"Is it so surprising I want to look presentable?" Harry asked, "I'm capable of cleaning up, thank you very much."
"You meeting someone?" Ron asked, his brow furrowed in thought.
Harry stifled the urge to tell Ron to bugger off, especially because of who he was meeting.
"Possibly." He shrugged, giving a non-answer.
Ron shook his head. "Be that way then."
Harry glanced towards Professor McGonagall, who was giving the third years, who were going to Hogsmeade for the first time, a basic rundown on certain areas to tread lightly around. Harry was certain he heard the Hog's Head being mentioned by name.
McGonagall gave Harry a side eye glance as he went ahead and walked towards Hogsmeade. He had someone to meet.
Daphne spotted Harry as he made his way to where they were to meet, outside of the Three Broomsticks.
She eyed him appreciatively, noting that he cleaned up rather well. The message he sent by making the effort wasn't missed.
He valued her opinion.
She couldn't fault him, glancing down at the white, button up jacket and muggle jeans she was wearing.
She had sent a letter to her mother, asking for her to get some regular muggle clothes. Her mother understood more about muggle fashion than she did, hence the enlisting of her help.
She couldn't help but grin as Harry reached her, his piercing green eyes looking at her own, darting towards her clothes for a fraction of a second.
"Ms. Greengrass," He smiled, a genuine one at that, "Must you outperform all the time?" He asked with a raised brow at her clothes.
Turning up her nose, she gave him a close imitation of an arrogant look. "I will not sell myself short, even if I must leave you ashamed of your own garments." She turned on her heel and crossed her arms, acting like she were pouting.
"Ah," She heard a thump sound like Harry was clutching his chest, "I've already disappointed you, and the date hasn't even started."
She whirled around jabbed him in the chest with a finger. "This is not a date, Potter," She used his last name, her eyes narrowing dangerously, "This is us trying to make a potential friendship out of a functional work agreement."
"Friendship?" Harry asked, looking bewildered, "I could have sworn you said courtship when we had this conversation earlier."
Daphne growled under her breath at what he was doing. "Let's just go inside." She grumbled, stomping towards the Three Broomsticks.
They entered the establishment, already packed with students, and both spotted an open table at around the same time, almost rushing towards it. Thankfully, they snatched up the table and situated themselves.
Grinning at the two of them thinking the same thing, Harry glanced towards the bar.
"I'll get some Butterbeers." He said kindly, getting up and making his way to the bar.
Daphne, now alone, glanced around discreetly and pulled her wand out of her jacket pocket, muttering an incantation for a privacy spell and flicking her wand, not wanting the two be heard.
Harry got back moments later with two Butterbeers in hand, sitting down carefully to not spill them. Daphne reached for one, but Harry pulled it back, shaking his head.
"Say the magic words." He scolded her gently, his eyes alight with amusement.
Daphne flicked her wand under the table and made direct eye contact with Harry as she clearly said the incantation of a stinging hex, sending one at his leg.
Harry winced and let go of the Butterbeer in his left hand, his hand disappearing under the table.
"A warning would have sufficed." He grumbled, pushing the other Butterbeer towards her.
"I'd have kicked your leg, but I don't want to damage my shoes." She giggled girlishly, taking a sip of Butterbeer.
"It wasn't my leg you hit." He said quietly, his hand still under the table.
Daphne chose the wrong time to take a small gulp and ended up inhaling part of it, coughing profusely and feeling some come out of her nose. After she managed to get her airway cleared, she looked at him through watered eyes from the sensation.
"Sorry." She whispered, her face burning in embarrassment, "I didn't look."
Harry took a drink of his own and waved it off. "I should have expected it," He shrugged, "Fred and George warned me about this."
Daphne ignored her embarrassment and gave him a sharp look. "You told them of all people?"
"Of course I didn't," Harry rolled his eyes, "They would have harassed me non-stop on how I 'bagged the Ice Queen'." He used air quotes.
Daphne scowled at that little nickname some pillock thought of in third year when she told him to leave her alone about going out to Hogsmeade.
"I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing that again." Daphne set her forehead on the table and groaned, looking back up at Harry.
"And what did those idiots say about me?" She added sweetly, noticing Harry flinch slightly at the predatory look.
"What you'd expect," He replied, the unsettled look gone, "A gaze that could freeze your soul, mate." He shifted his voice in an impression of the two, "Don't joke about her looking like Malfoy, she'll cut your bits off."
"Good. They remembered." She said to herself, not noticing Harry look unsurprised.
"That sounds like a story." Harry said, prompting her to share.
"Second year," She sighed, remembering the prank that she was the unintentional target of, "The two of them mistook me for Malfoy and made my hair red."
"They mistook you for the ferret?" Harry asked, stifling a laugh.
"They didn't look closely and only saw a blonde." She pointed at her hair as an example, grinning at Malfoy's nickname that he'd gotten in fourth year "And it didn't go away for a week."
"Why didn't I see that during potions class?" Harry asked confusedly.
"It was the day I went home for Christmas holidays," She said flatly, "And it took my father a week to reverse it."
Harry snickered, turning into a chuckle when she gave him an icy glare.
"Your dad is supposed to make potions for a living, and he took a week to figure it out?"
"Yes and the first time he tried to fix it, it turned orange." She couldn't help but shudder at the memory, Astoria's screaming laughter never failing to make her angry.
"And how does this riveting tale transition into the terrible twins ribbing me about 'ogling' you in potions?" Harry's mirth seemed to light up his eyes, making her try and focus to not stare.
"I threatened to cut their balls off when I got back from home." She deadpanned, smirking as Harry leaned back from her a few inches.
"No wonder they said Slytherin girls are crazy." Harry shook his head, "I'm lucky with just a stinging hex."
The two quieted down for a few minutes, looking around to see some of the students coming in and out.
"So," Daphne broke the silence, "How do you feel about your godfather's trial being tomorrow?" She asked, hoping she wasn't overstepping.
Harry shrugged and looked unbothered, thankfully. "I'm not nervous, if that's what you're wondering. But thank you for the thought, it's appreciated."
Daphne couldn't fathom how much it would hurt Harry to think that someone who should have been able to raise him was wrongfully imprisoned for betraying his parents and killing innocent people.
"I'm sure it will be fine." She assured him anyway, deciding to place her hand on his in comfort.
She caught a flash of what she thought was fear in his eyes as her palm touched the top of his hand, his face going flat for a moment. She waved it off as embarrassment when he avoided meeting her gaze.
The fact that she had styled her hair and was wearing a light application of make up meant nothing, she was sure of that. She was positively radiant without such trivial things.
"Have you given it more thought," He asked, "What I asked you yesterday?" His eyes hesitantly met hers.
Harry had offered her private lessons, the kind that included teaching her the Patronus charm.
She chewed on the bottom of her lip, still thinking on it. The fact that he offered meant he felt it necessary to offer such a thing.
"I need to know," She asked quietly, dreading the answer, "Is he really back? You weren't blackmailed by Dumbledore into lying?" She silently begged whoever was listening to let it be the second half.
She couldn't help but shudder when he squeezed her hand lightly and looked at her with resignment.
"I'll never lie to you," He replied, green eyes meeting her blue ones, "He's back." was the soft answer.
The sound of talking, laughter, and overall revelry that was the background faded into nothingness, leaving her feeling cold. The only thing of warmth she could feel was Harry's hand.
"I see."
Those two words were all that she could muster. What she feared was true. The Dark Lord was alive, and he wouldn't accept neutrality a second time.
Her hand tightened around Harry's, causing him to wince. Her eyes then hardened and she was filled with a terrible determination.
"I want you to teach me everything you can." She said fiercely, seeing his eyes widen minutely, "I will not let my family be vulnerable to the Dark Lord and his followers."
Harry looked at her blankly for a moment, before his eyes seemed to sharpen, his face hardening.
"Which days will be the best for you?" He asked without hesitation.
"Sunday." She said immediately, not caring if it would eat into her free time. She was not losing her family, nor were they going to lose her.
Harry nodded and grabbed his Butterbeer, taking a gulp and setting it back down.
"Can I have my hand back?" He looked to where she had a tight grip on his hand, enough where her knuckles were white.
She let go of his hand and felt her face colour slightly. "Sorry." She mumbled, flexing her fingers some to work the kinks out of them.
The next half hour or so involved them just talking about random things, most of it about the D.A. She couldn't help but laugh when Harry told her he almost called it Dumbledore's Army as a gag to scare the Ministry.
The D.A. had grown over the month to include another dozen students, including all the female Gryffindor fifth years and a few more Ravenclaws, including Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein. Tracey had been nearly giddy when Blaise had agreed to go upon her request. The prospect of having a useful Defense teacher was more important than a few idiots making a fuss about learning from Harry Potter.
Nott had also considered it, but he seemed to be keeping to himself like he usually did.
Eventually, when it was time to head back, they left the Three Broomsticks and walked back to the castle, Harry turning to her.
"You want to see something in the castle that only a few know about?" He asked as they entered the castle, a few other students trickling back from Hogsmeade.
Daphne smirked at the thought of knowing more secrets, nodding excitedly.
"Is it the Chamber?" She asked, hoping it was.
Harry shook his head, causing her to give him a pouting look.
"That's for another day." He said, walking towards the stairs leading up to the DADA classroom. Harry abruptly stopped in front of a statue, causing her to walk into him.
"Ouch." She muttered, coughing a bit from getting winded slightly from hitting him.
Harry also winced, but not as much.
"Trying to get a repeat of the train?" He asked, rubbing his side from where she walked into him.
"S-shut up." She hated herself for letting her embarrassment at the memory bleed into her voice, "You're the idiot that stopped abruptly."
"Constant vigilance, Daphne." He reminded her, looking at the statue of a one eyed witch.
She just huffed and watched to see what he was going to do.
He pulled out his wand and hissed an incantation in Parseltongue, waving his wand over his head and directing it down the hall.
Daphne assumed it was some kind of detection spell, judging by how Harry was very private and covered his tracks from what she'd seen over the last several weeks. That thought didn't take away how unpleasant it felt to hear it spoken aloud. She felt like a small part of her mind seemed to scream at her to cower and run, to flee a dangerous predator.
Harry probably noticed something was off with her because he cleared his throat.
"Sorry," He said apologetically, his wand still in his hand, but lowered, "I should have warned you about how it feels when using spells in Parseltongue."
Daphne blinked and unclenched a fist she didn't realize she made.
"I felt like something was watching me," She grimaced, "Something dangerous."
"Yeah," Harry furrowed his brow, "That's how yo- uh, Hermione described it when I did it before." He seemed to have caught himself from mistakenly saying her instead of Granger.
Does he already equate me with someone close to him? She thought, bearing that in mind.
"Was that a detection spell?" She asked, turning her head to glance down the corridor to see if anyone was there.
"Yeah," Harry nodded his affirmative, taking a step towards the statue, "Certain concealing spells are useless to that." He then tapped his wand against the hump of the statue and muttered the word Dissendium. The hump opened and revealed a hole in the statue. Daphne stepped forward and looked down and saw a small corridor, maybe enough to allow one person to squeeze through.
"This leads to the cellar of Honeydukes," He whispered in her ear, his breath rustling her hair slightly.
She shivered at the feeling and went to tuck her hair back behind her ear, but she froze when she felt Harry's hand do it, her cheek tingling as his fingers brushed across her face.
She turned her head slowly and looked up at him, the realization of how much he had grown since last year hitting her now that they were just inches from each other. They'd been roughly the same height. But now, he was about 4 inches taller than her.
She saw his eyes have a faraway look to them, even when he was looking straight at her.
"Daphne." He said quietly, his hand ghosting over her cheek.
She shuddered and leaned towards him, her eyes closing partially. They were only inches away, when Harry pulled away sharply.
"I'm sorry." He managed to stammer out, turning on his heel, "I'll see you at the next meeting." He nearly fled from the hall, straight to wherever he was going.
Daphne exhaled with a shudder, staying rooted to the spot.
She tried to calm her breathing and steady herself from the dizziness and haze over her mind.
She'd almost kissed him. She'd been ready to. His bright green eyes, his more confident attitude, that playful smirk, the lack of fear in playing word games with her, she knew all of them were check marks on her list of a preferable boy to court.
Calm down. Calm down. She chanted to herself, trying to rein in her emotions with Occlumency.
He was probably terrified from the impending trial and sought some type of emotional support, she rationalized. There was no other reason he could have looked at her with such raw vulnerability in that moment. He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"Thank Merlin he backed away." She mumbled to herself, walking back to the Slytherin common room to calm down her thoughts.
If she had kissed him, it would have felt wrong. Unless he did it because he wanted her, and not the emotional oasis that she'd offer, she didn't consider it real.
Who am I kidding, I wouldn't have cared. She thought to herself, wondering why he didn't when he could have.
Harry managed to stagger towards a broom cupboard and wrenched the door open, slamming it shut as he entered.
He grabbed the collar of his shirt and loosened it, trying to cool himself down.
He'd been just a couple seconds at most from kissing her. He'd leaned in. He'd looked at her eyes, that beautiful blue he'd fallen in love with, but he wasn't looking at her in that moment.
He'd been looking at what she was.
He would have kissed her as what she would be, not who she was. If he was going to, it would not be from him being lost in a memory of the future. She deserved far more than that.
Calm down man. You've gotten through worse than not kissing a girl. He thought harshly, grasping ahold of his emotions and taking the edge off of them with his Occlumency.
After he was ready to, he left the cupboard and walked towards Gryffindor tower, needing to distract himself.
I bet Daphne thinks it was something to do with her, and not me being reminded of what was. He scoffed, not looking forward to their next meeting.
Sirius tried to calm his breathing, but he considered it useless.
He was under an invisibility cloak and was being escorted by Kingsley and Moody to the Ministry, the older man technically having Auror privileges since he came out of retirement.
The trial was today. Even with everything stacked in his favour from Harry making a splash in his own trial, he couldn't get the terror under control.
He wouldn't survive Azkaban a second time, even if it were for a short while.
It was his hatred that kept him intact. His hatred for Wormtail betraying them, hatred for Dumbledore not getting him a trial, hatred for Remus believing him a traitor, and above all else...
His own self hatred.
The despair caused by dementors couldn't touch him as long as he held firm to his hatred, fortifying his mind to them.
And it almost destroyed him.
He destroyed the Fat Lady's portrait, broke into Gryffindor tower, and attacked Ron to get to Wormtail, not caring that he broke a thirteen year old boy's leg in the process.
He'd almost become what he had run from when he was sixteen.
A Black like his mother and Bellatrix.
The summer of 1994 was horrible on him. He hadn't been around Harry for two reasons that summer.
One, he genuinely was on the run and went somewhere tropical. But two, he wasn't mentally capable of going back to Grimmauld Place with Harry.
Letting go of his hatred was worse than any hangover, any wound, or spell that he had felt.
It was his only companion for over a decade, but it was time.
The nightmares where he screamed his throat raw took months to fade.
But a year of letters and talks with Remus had helped him, finally ending up with him moving into Grimmauld Place with Remus there to help.
Harry had given him purpose again.
This was why he was here, walking, invisible, with two high caliber Aurors, one having trained him and James, through a secret tunnel into the Ministry that was exclusive to Aurors with clearance from the DMLE Head.
They got into a small corridor that branched off and followed the winding path it took, arriving at the end.
There, they were met by Amelia Bones, Scrimgeour and Dawlish flanking her.
A public call had been made in the Daily Prophet for Sirius Black to come out for a trial, one having not occurred.
With public support for a trial on his side, he was able to set up a meeting, through owl letters, to meet with Amelia in a private setting to make sure he didn't get killed on route.
"I assume he's under a cloak?" Amelia asked, wand in hand.
The agreement involved Moody being one of the Aurors escorting him, something Sirius stressed in one of the letters sent to Amelia.
Moody nodded and signaled for Sirius to take off the cloak he lended to him.
Sirius did so and pulled the hood down and took it off his shoulders, revealing himself.
Scrimgeour, ever the professional, was tensed and ready to cut him down, while Dawlish wasn't able to conceal his worry as effectively as his superior.
"You've gotten old, Auror Black." Sirius didn't miss how Amelia worded her sentence, nor did he miss the tone.
She believed him.
"Haven't we all?" He said quietly, Moody putting a gnarled hand on his shoulder to assure Amelia's 'guards' that Sirius didn't have any tricks he could pull near the Department Head of Britain's law enforcement.
"Let's get on with it then, shall we?" She shifted to the right and gestured for Scrimgeour and Dawlish to step forward.
"You know the drill," She looked to them, "Diamond formation, I'll take point." She then turned and walked towards the entry point, wand still in hand.
Scrimgeour and Dawlish each moved to either side of him, facing him with their wands out, with Kingsley and Moody still at his back.
They got to the edge and Sirius could almost feel the Lords, Ladies, and other Wizengamot members sitting just a short distance away.
They would be the ones deciding his fate on this day. He would either be delivered from the prison that had been his life for nearly a decade and a half, or he would be sentenced to hell again.
Quit over thinking it, mate, He could almost hear James scolding him, Go in there and fight like you fought alongside me. Harry needs you. You don't have permission to give up until he lets you.
Sirius felt a fire ignite in him as the voice of the brother he chose gave him what he needed to hear.
He could do this.
Amelia stepped forward first and he heard voices start to raise in acknowledgement, everyone knowing what her arrival through the tunnel that prisoners were escorted meant.
Amelia disappeared around the corner, likely taking her seat as the DMLE Head and he heard Fudge's voice moments later.
"Bring forth the accused."
The five of them walked forward and entered the trial room, gasps of shock and several mutters audible.
He had an immaculate set of robes on, the Black Family crest on it, and had his beard trimmed with his hair straightened and clean.
All in all, he looked like a Lord.
The four Aurors escorted him to the center of the room, a chair with chains beside it.
Sirius didn't need to see the runes on the chains that would cause them to bind his hands.
He sat in the chair, said chains springing to life and slowly wrapped around to lock his hands in place.
He looked around the room, noting the expressionless looks of the 'Imperioused' Death Eaters.
A child could see them employing Occlumency.
"The date is October sixth, 1995, and this trial is to determine the presumed guilt of one Sirius Orion Black." Fudge went on clinically, making Sirius want to doze off already.
I wonder where Harry is, probably in the viewing area.
He glanced in that area and sure enough, Harry was back there on his own.
His godson flashed him a grin reassuringly.
"You are Sirius Orion Black, yes?" Fudge asked for the record to show, even if the question was ridiculous to everyone.
No, I'm Stubby Boardman.
"Yes, I am." Sirius answered smoothly, his mind on task now.
Fudge cleared his throat and read the charges.
"You are here on the charge of being a Death Eater in the service of He-who-must-not-be-named, accessory to the murder of James Potter and Lily Potter, the murder of Peter Pettigrew, with a dozen innocent muggles caught in the explosion, and breaking out of Azkaban. How do you plead?"
"Not guilty on all counts."
A few mutters could be heard as he gave that answer.
"Do you have evidence of your innocence on the charge of aiding in the murder of James Potter and Lily Potter?" Fudge asked, "Albus Dumbledore testified that you were the Secret Keeper of a Fidelius charm cast upon the residence of the Potters in the year of 1981."
"The Secret Keeper was switched to Peter Pettigrew," Sirius replied, "I kept up the ruse to protect them and keep Voldemort's focus on me. None of us knew Pettigrew was the traitor."
Several people shifted uncomfortably when Voldemort's name was mentioned with so little hesitation.
"Albus Dumbledore is here right now," Fudge gestured towards Dumbledore, who was sat in the section for holders of an Order of Merlin, First class, "Were you aware of a switch, Mr. Dumbledore?" Fudge stressed the 'Mr' part, his expression a distasteful one.
"I was informed that Mr. Black was selected as Secret Keeper, but nothing on whether there was a switch. I wouldn't be able to dispute whether a switch occurred."
More mutters were heard.
Amelia Bones cleared her throat and everyone quieted down.
"In a case of this importance, an eye witness account of Mr. Black being made Secret Keeper is inadequate for any conviction. If the defendant wishes, Veritaserum can be administered with a Legilimens to scan for any application of Occlumency to resist it."
This was a form of verification that was uncommon, as it opened up the possibility of secrets coming to the surface. It was even worse because of a majority of competent Legilimens being part of rival Houses at times.
But Sirius didn't give a single iota of care. He wanted freedom.
"I consent to such verification." Sirius nodded, his face impassive.
Amelia turned to Fudge, who surprisingly didn't raise an issue.
"A Legilimens will be needed." Fudge said, Amelia inclining her head.
"I am capable of doing it." Amelia said simply, giving Fudge a look of challenge.
"As DMLE Head, you would be the best choice." Fudge acknowledged, several voices of agreement being heard.
Amelia walked down to the center of the room and looked towards Scrimgeour.
"Fetch Veritaserum, please." Was all she said, the veteran Auror nodding once, before turning to leave the room.
Several minutes passed before Scrimgeour got back, bottle in his left hand.
Amelia signaled for Kingsley to come closer, taking the bottle from Scrimgeour with a nod of thanks.
"Three drops, Black, you know the drill." Amelia said to him, gesturing for him to lean his head back.
Sirius offered no resistance and tilted his back, opening his mouth.
Right before Amelia uncorked the bottle, Sirius dropped his Occlumency shields.
The sensation made him feel naked, and not in the good way.
He felt like an exposed nerve, every brush of emotion wild and feral.
Focus. For Harry. He thought with as much force as he could, clenching his fingers and pressing his nails into the arm rests.
Amelia pulled out her wand and reached her left hand out and dipped the bottle forward.
He felt 3 drops hit his tongue and his mind flattened into a slow monotone.
After a few seconds, he felt a Legilimency probe brush his mind, causing his body to instinctively stiffen.
Several seconds later, Amelia began to ask the questions.
"What is your name and date of birth?" She asked a test question.
"Sirius Orion Black. November 3rd, 1959." He droned in a flat voice with no inflection.
"Why are you here?"
"To prove myself innocent of the charges against me." He answered, same empty voice.
Amelia turned towards Fudge and the Wizengamot for permission to continue, now that the test questions were through.
No one said stop.
"Who betrayed the Potter's location to the Dark Lord?" Amelia asked, her tone that of the head of all of Britain's law enforcement.
"Peter Pettigrew."
More than one gasp was heard from the Wizengamot.
Amelia turned towards the Wizengamot, looking at her wand.
"Truth."
She turned back to him.
"Are you or have you ever been a Death Eater, or supported He-who-must-not-be-named?"
"No."
"Truth."
"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"
"No."
"Truth."
It continued on just as it had been, with Amelia asking him what happened that night.
The Veritaserum wasn't enough to completely deaden his emotions as he recounted the events of the night that shattered his entire world.
After he finished, several people had tears in their eyes at hearing the bits of despair bleed into his voice as he explained how he had been clutching James' body as he wept, of how he raged at Pettigrew, of how he was dragged in chains and thrown into Azkaban without a trial, even after he dutifully served the witches and wizards of Britain in fighting the Dark Lord.
"One final question," Amelia said quietly, looking pale from feeling the portions of emotion from the Legilimency scan, "How did you break out of Azkaban?"
"I shifted into my animagus form and slipped through the bars."
Amelia blinked in surprise, but schooled her features almost instantly.
"You are not on the registry."
"No," He replied, "Neither is Pettigrew and James."
That led to a final round of questions about him being an animagus.
"Give him the antidote." Amelia looked at Scrimgeour, who stepped forward and dripped a couple of drops into Sirius' mouth.
After that, Amelia went back to her seat, Sirius trying to fight through the fog on his mind, now that the questioning was over.
"Let the record show," Amelia began, raising her voice so it would carry, "That escaping from Azkaban is not a crime if he was sent without a trial."
Unlawful detainment, also known as kidnapping, warranted the right to escape, even if the detainers were Aurors or law enforcement. This only applied to law enforcement in cases like Sirius', where he was never given a trial or sentenced.
"On the charge of the murder of Peter Pettigrew," Fudge began, looking at the Wizengamot members, "Those in favour of guilt?"
Only a handful raised their wands.
"Those in favour of the clearance of charges?"
A vast majority raised their wands, including Fudge.
"On the charge of accessory to the murder of James Potter and Lily Potter and of treason to Magical Britain?" Fudge asked, "Those in favour of guilt?"
Even fewer raised their wands.
"In favour of clearance?"
The rest raised their wands.
"You admitted to being an unregistered animagus, which is a misdemeanor. In light of what has happened to you, the minimum charge will be levied: A fine of 15 galleons."
Sirius hid the scoff at the light punishment.
"Sirius Black," Fudge looked down at him, a look of empathy that may have been authentic on his face, "No amount of words or money will make up for the travesty that befell you, but even the smallest of things are better than nothing."
What is he doing? Sirius thought.
"I call for the official swearing in of Sirius Black as the Lord of House Black," Fudge declared, "With all due haste."
"I second the motion." Cyrus Greengrass stood up, nodding towards Sirius, his eyes darting towards Harry for a fraction of a second.
Sirius blinked and tried to comprehend what was happening.
Fudge had to be practically like a rat jumping from a sinking ship.
Whether he truly believed Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater or not ceased to matter. The public will be on his side for months on end, and Malfoy was in a weakened position from losing the Black seat.
Fudge was a consummate politician, no doubt about that.
Sirius could put it to good use.
Sirius looked at the seat that traditionally was his family's and could almost imagine his grandfather sitting there.
Arcturus Black may have been a blood purist and an all around bastard to most, but he loved his family and would have moved mountains by hand for them if he had to.
He was one of the Blacks he was proud of knowing.
"Those in favour?" Fudge called out, raising his own hand.
A smaller majority, but a majority nonetheless, raised their wands.
"Good," Fudge cleared his throat, looking at Sirius, "Shacklebolt, remove those chains." He instructed, looking vexed.
Kingsley flicked his wand and the chains came loose, relinquishing Sirius' hands from their grasp.
He massaged his wrists and began to absorb the gravity of it all.
He was free.
Don't start crying. He bit down and used an Occlumency trance to calm himself. He could do it in private, with Remus and Harry, not these strangers.
"Once the Lord ring has been brought, it will be done." Fudge said, a loud clearing of someone's throat being heard.
Everyone turned and saw Harry walk down towards the edge of the seats, going through his pocket.
Sirius grinned at the reminder of what Harry was doing.
Gringotts had sent a letter to Harry when he was announced as the Black heir, requesting a meeting. Harry was able to get ahold of the Black vaults and got the Lord ring, which was now in his pocket.
"If I may, Lords and Ladies," Harry bowed respectfully, "But I have the ring here," He lifted it up, the slight glint of the metal being visible, "Gringotts saw fit to inform me that the ring was in the Black vault."
No doubt that Harry knew how to play a crowd, but Sirius did wonder how much it effected Harry, seeing Cedric die.
"You may bring the ring forward, Mr. Potter." Fudge inclined his head, smiling politely.
Harry walked down the steps and intentionally ignored Dumbledore, not looking at him at all, but gave Lord Greengrass a nod.
Keeping up the ruse of Dumbledore being a complete tosser. Sirius smirked, remembering the plan.
Offer Harry up as bait to see if Fudge will bite. Dumbledore was Fudge's target, and offering up the future Lord Black as a potentially malleable ally was too enticing.
If concessions and some funding to the Aurors could be squeezed out for a 'friendship', then good for everyone.
Harry got to him and offered the ring with an outstretched hand.
Even if Harry was using an impressive display of Occlumency, to the point that others wouldn't be able to notice, he could see how his eyes were shining with happiness.
He felt the weight of the ring fall into his palm, but he didn't care.
He only cared about the proof of his triumph in front of him.
Harry had James' hair and so much of his face, but he wasn't James. He was his godson, who had the same bright green eyes as the fiery girl that would defy them and her entire year of Gryffindors for the sake of Snape.
Harry was so much better of a person than his father and godfather were as teenagers.
And he couldn't have been more proud.
"Padfoot." Harry whispered, backing away some.
Sirius, with shaky fingers, slid the Black ring on his finger, the bite from it recognizing him as its lord didn't even hurt, it let him know this wasn't a dream, not some delirious hallucination induced by the dementors.
Sirius stood up and lifted up his hand, displaying the hand that had the ring on it.
"The Wizengamot welcomes Lord Black to its ensemble," Fudge intoned with a clinical voice, his wand raised, "So mote it be."
"So mote it be." Every other Lord and Lady present raised their wands and repeated those four words.
Sirius swallowed and bowed deeply, straightening up a moment later.
"I am humbled and honoured to join your company." He replied formally, his eyes flicking towards Harry.
Fudge cleared his throat as he put his wand away.
"Now that the trial and the overseeing of the ascension to Lordship is concluded," Fudge declared, looking somewhat tired, "I see no more reason to keep us waiting. Court is adjourned." A swift crack from the gavel's impact was made and the meeting was brought to an end.
Sirius went to Harry and pulled him into a hug, feeling lighter than he had in years.
"What now, Sirius?" Harry whispered, holding him close, "You're a free man now."
Sirius laughed and gave Harry a wide grin.
"Have the greasiest food in muggle London and get plastered, you and Remus both are coming with me."
Harry rolled his eyes in a way that had an uncanny resemblance to Lily when he and James did something truly stupid.
"Yes on the first, no on the second."
Sirius chuckled as the two walked out of the room, maintaining his grin.
"James would call you a spoilsport, while Lily would be proud."
Harry snorted.
"I sometimes wonder what my mum was thinking when she let you be my godfather."
Sirius let out a bark of laughter right as they exited the corridor and saw the Atrium packed with reporters.
"Bollocks." Sirius muttered, not looking forward to this.
"Cheer up," Harry said cheekily, "Give one of the pretty ones an exclusive interview, and she might fondle your's."
Of course, the first one to get to them was a ravishing blonde in her early twenties, her robes rather tight in certain areas.
Yep, definitely your son, James. He thought, plastering on a fake smile as the wave of parasites rushed towards them.
"Sooo," Sirius slurred, an almost empty shot glass of firewhiskey next to him, "How's the, um, Da... Daphne, that's it." He smiled at Harry, "How's Daphne? She pretty?"
Harry scowled and shot a glare at both Sirius and Remus, the second man taking a drink at a much more sedate pace.
They'd eaten at a muggle open cafe and Sirius ended up eating several burgers, looking almost like a dog as he gorged himself.
Whether women found him to be obscenely attractive or those women were of a rather loose temperament, more than one was trying to get Sirius' attention, flicking their hair and batting their eyes at him.
Sirius seldom cared and kept on eating, Remus having to apologise for Sirius' behavior.
Harry had almost choked on his own food when a particularly snooty woman said that Sirius and Remus deserved each other when Sirius ignored her.
Neither of the two men found it particularly amusing and Remus gave Sirius a warning look to not discreetly curse her.
Sirius was in a much better mood after the waitress, who was only a couple years older than Harry, started hitting on the green eyed boy, giggling at anything he said and was openly checking him out.
It was made worse that she had a vague resemblance to Daphne.
They'd gone back to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius cracked open a 50 year old bottle of firewhiskey and celebrated, a bit too much at that.
"C'mon, Harry," Sirius hiccuped slightly, clearing his throat, "Tell me she's pretty."
Harry scowled and reached for the bottle, both men looking shocked.
"Harry." Remus gave him a stern look.
"Give me a break," Harry said irritably, "Your lover is pestering me." He pitched his voice and mock swooned at the word.
Both Remus and Sirius scowled at him in unison.
"That's not funny." Sirius gave him an angry look, or at least tried to, since he was looking to the left of Harry.
"Right here, Padfoot." Harry deadpanned, the man's gaze shooting to his.
Sirius couldn't even see straight. No surprise, since half the bottle was gone.
"Sirius, I do think you need to slow down." Remus advised, "I'd rather not have to pick you up off the floor."
"And carry him to bed, gently in your arms, laying down his sweet and weary head?" Harry asked sweetly, eliciting an actual growl from Remus.
"Like you could handle that," Sirius pointed at the bottle, "Pipsqueak." He muttered the last part, putting his arm out to steady himself for a moment.
Harry, making eye contact with the both of them, put the bottle to his lips and took a gulp, swallowing it and shivering slightly.
The firewhiskey was some of the strongest he'd ever had, but he'd opened up this particular bottle when he proposed to Daphne, the initial sight of it had him flinching when Sirius brought it out a few years before it would have been.
Harry set the bottle down and managed to not cough, giving the two men a challenging look.
Remus closed his eyes and sighed.
"James would be so proud of you," He mumbled, patting Sirius on the shoulder, "And Lily would have our balls for letting you do that."
Sirius, being the drunken arsehole he was, decided to say something very stupid.
"If you can drink that and not flinch, you can ask out a girl. I'll teach ya." Sirius went to get up, but sat back down when he staggered.
"I'm not interested right now." Harry rolled his eyes, knowing Sirius was still sober enough to string together a conversation, but his inhibitions on keeping certain opinions and details out were gone.
"You see," Sirius began, ignoring him, "Slytherin girls are really hard to bag. They're elusive, like sneks." He giggled the last part.
Harry looked at Remus for help, but the scarred man grinned and refused to intervene.
"You might be a good duelist and able to drink," Sirius pointed a finger at him, failing to look serious, "But you can't top me sleeping with a Gryffindor and Slytherin girl at the same time."
Remus elbowed Sirius lightly and leaned in to whisper something to him.
The look of glee on Sirius' face was not a welcome one.
"Harry, you think Hermione and Ms. Greengrass wil-" Sirius started to say.
"Finish that sentence, and I'll neuter you." Harry glared at him, shooting Remus a withering look.
"Now, Harry," Remus mock scolded him, "You need to know about how to speak to girls."
"I'll learn more from a dead hippogriff than an alcoholic and his uptight best mate." Harry rolled his eyes, seeing Sirius look affronted.
"I'm a drunk, not an alcoholic," Sirius countered, looking flushed, "Alcoholics seek help."
Harry snorted at that, but gave him a genuine smile.
"I'm glad I got a day off from Hogwarts," He looked at the two men, "Thanks for that."
Sirius and Remus smiled, Remus reaching for the bottle.
"I'll drink to that." Remus said, filling the glass and taking a shot, hissing slightly at the taste, "That is the best firewhiskey I've had, you Blacks have good taste." he grinned at Sirius.
"Yep." Sirius reached for the bottle, but Remus stopped him.
"You need to lay down, Padfoot," Remus put his hand over Sirius', "You don't want a hangover like last time, do you?"
"I've got a potion," Sirius said, but nodded anyway, "Fine, I need to lay down. Thank you, Harry," He looked at his godson with his eyes shining, "For another chance."
Sirius then stood up carefully and gingerly walked to his room, the boards creaking softly.
Harry looked to Remus and saw he wanted to say something.
"I haven't seen the light in his eyes since that Halloween," Remus said, his tone wistful, "Until today."
Remus smiled and corked the firewhiskey, the small rune cluster on the cork sealing it properly.
"You've given us another chance, Harry," He said quietly, "The both of us."
Harry got up and patted Remus on the shoulder, the man in front of him reminding him so much of his godson.
Teddy had lived with Andromeda, but Harry had visited and been there for him, just as Remus would have if Sirius wasn't imprisoned.
"You two have been uncles to me more so than Vernon ever was."
Remus seemed to flinch at that.
"I should have pressed Dumbledore to know where you were." He said, looking down.
"They would have been on your arse for being near their vaunted saviour," Harry said with venom lacing the last two words, "Because of you being a werewolf."
Remus shrunk into himself at the reminder.
"Quit caring about what those arseholes think Remus," Harry gave him a sharp look, "All of Britain could tell me you were a monster and I couldn't care less. You are the reason I'm alive, Moony. I'm standing in front of you right now because you taught me the Patronus."
Remus swallowed and blinked, looking up at him.
"You're a good man in spite of the shit hand you've been dealt," Harry continued, "And my father and Sirius are fortunate to have had you as a friend."
"And so am I." Harry finished, beginning to walk out of the room.
Before he left, he heard Remus say something, his voice having some shakiness to it.
"Thank you, Harry." Remus whispered.
Harry exited the room, a soft smile on his face.
Harry spotted Tonks downstairs at the dining room table, something that had him confused.
"It's almost 9:00, Tonks," He said, giving her a puzzled look, "What are you doing here?"
"I have a pleasant buzz right now," She leaned back in the chair and smiled, "I'm gonna crash here tonight. Don't want to splinch myself."
Tonks had been invited to celebrate her cousin's freedom, but had stayed out of the way once Harry, Sirius, and Remus begged off to talk in private.
"Fair enough," Harry shrugged, sitting down, "I have a proposition for you."
Tonks straightened up and gave him a quizzical look.
"Yes?" She asked.
"Sirius and I are aware that you like Remus," Harry noticed her face redden for a moment, before she used her metamorph ability to make it disappear, "And I have a way to get it through Remus' thick head that you like him, even when he has his time of the month."
Tonks snorted at how Harry worded it, but kept giving him a look for him to continue.
Harry leaned in closer.
"How hard is it to get Polyjuice?" He smiled with most of his teeth showing.
Sirius groaned as he woke up with a pounding headache from last night.
He cracked an eye open, spotting a small bottle of a hangover relief drought and silently thanked Harry or Remus, whichever one put it there for him.
He grabbed at it and groaned as he sat up, the room spinning.
He squinted to keep the light out of his eyes and took the cap of the bottle, downing it instantly.
He knew it wasn't a hangover drought when it was viscous like mud as it went down.
You bastards. He cursed as he hunched over and felt his body change, growing a couple inches taller.
He groaned as he felt at his hair and face.
His luscious hair was now shorter...and brown.
"Wankers." He growled, realizing who he looked like based on the voice that left his mouth.
Remus.
He dragged himself to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, eying the face of his friend.
"I'm a stupid wanker. I'm a pillock. Sirius stealthily seduces Slytherin sluts." He started saying in front of the mirror, wanting to visualize Remus saying all of that.
Glancing behind his back to make sure no one was there, Sirius pulled his pants down.
Sirius blinked in shock.
"My God, Remus, I don't think it's because of your scars that you didn't want to change clothes in front of us," He said to himself incredulously, "I thought I was packing some spellpower. You've got a damn staff instead of a wand, mate."
He pulled his pants up and left the room to go kill Remus, Harry would just get away with just a few prank spells cast on him.
Nah, I'll tell him about how I walked in on James and Lily.
He got halfway down the hallway when he felt a spell come towards him from behind.
He might have been able to dodge it if he wasn't hungover, but he was absolutely gone.
It turned out to be a body bind, because his whole body froze and he fell to the floor with a thud, unable to see who hit him.
He got flipped over and saw it was Tonks, who was holding her wand and had a fierce look on her face that reminded him almost of Bellatrix when she wasn't completely insane.
Completely, not partially.
"Ok, Remus," She said sharply, standing above him, "We're going to have a talk, and you're going to listen."
Oh Merlin, she thinks I'm Remus. Sirius was praying she wouldn't say something that would be embarrassing.
"I don't give a single shite that you're a werewolf or that you're older." She growled at him.
Her voice started raising for some odd reason.
"You're a good man and I won't let you mope and complain about how you're 'too old' or 'not good enough' for me." Tonks then leaned closer.
"I. Want. You."
Sirius saw movement in the corner of his eye and saw Remus standing behind them, a look of shock on his face.
He obviously heard the commotion, especially with his hearing being better than average from being a werewolf.
Tonks saw Sirius' eyes move and she turned around, spotting another Remus.
She didn't miss a beat and flicked her wand at him, casting another body bind, the visible ripple of air striking Remus dead on.
He crumbled to the ground, a look of shock frozen on his face.
Tonks looked back and forth between them, before focusing on Sirius.
"Sirius," She growled, noticing that his pajamas pants were a little short now, "Why the hell do you look like Remus?"
He didn't answer, mainly from still being paralysed.
Tonks scowled and waved her wand, the spell ending.
Sirius got up and glared at Remus, who was now in the same predicament Sirius had been in.
"You're a right bastard, Remus, you know that?" Sirius glared at his friend pointing to himself.
Tonks removed the body bind from Remus, glaring at Sirius.
Remus got up and kept looking at Sirius.
"Why the hell do you look like me?" Remus asked, looking just as confused.
Sirius thought for a moment.
"If it wasn't you, then it was Harry," Sirius scowled, "Little bastard."
"Sirius," Tonks looked at him, "Sorry for thinking you were Remus."
At the mention of his friend's name, Sirius felt a little uncomfortable at what happened just a minute prior.
"I can give you two some privacy to talk," Sirius said awkwardly, shifting around uncomfortably, "I'm going to kick Harry's arse and take a hangover potion."
He went to leave to go to Harry's room, but Tonks cleared her throat.
"He already left and went back to Hogwarts." Tonks said, reminding Sirius that Harry was only staying for the day.
Sirius scowled under his breath and went down to the kitchen, needing some water to drink with the actual potion.
"Kreacher!" Sirius called out as he got to the kitchen, the elf appearing with a crack sound.
"Yes, master?" Kreacher asked in a bored tone, an improvement from the hostility from a week ago.
Kreacher had been less biting since he was made Lord Black, which was a welcome surprise since he didn't have to hear constant mutterings of 'Blood traitor' and 'Nasty Master Sirius'.
"I need a hangover potion." Sirius said flatly, a glass of water he filled in the sink right next to him.
Kreacher shook his head.
"Werewolf and Master Harry took last two." Kreacher replied, a grin on his face.
Sirius groaned and swore he was going to disown Harry.
"Go." He moaned into his hands, wincing when the crack of apparition was much louder than it should have been.
Glaring at the glass of water, he grabbed it and gulped it down, swearing vengeance on Harry.
I know he and Dora planned this. The timing was too perfect.
Getting pranked with Polyjuice was one thing, but being made to look like Remus right as Dora decided to be blunt about her affections was completely different.
Sirius could swear he could hear James laugh when he realized how Harry had pranked the two of them.
"I think he's going to surpass us all, James." He whispered to himself, smiling as he remembered his friend.
Christmas holidays were when he was going to get his vengeance on Harry, that was a promise.
End Chapter:
This chapter was fighting me on being written, couldn't seem to get it to flow properly from one scene to the next.
I made Sirius' trial more streamlined than Harry's because Fudge isn't going to hold it up when the tide is in Sirius' favour. Fudge is a politician, and politicians love when public opinion is in their favour.
That and Harry's trial practically killed me writing it scene by scene, which I wasn't looking forward to again.
Anyway, here's a fresh chapter and I hope you all have a wonderful day.
Raging..