Dammit, I was hoping no one would catch my mistake. Ah, oh well. I changed this chapter so it's Crouch, not Fudge in charge. I figured it out a while after I wrote the chapter, but Fudge in charge still made so much more sense...ah, oh well. It's fixed. *grumbles at dii the bitchy werewolf...nah, just kidding, yer awesome too*

Dumbledore sighed and rolled over in bed. For some reason, he just couldn't get his mind off this one particular memory. Whenever he tried to go to sleep, it would come back into his head.

Without meaning to, his eyes slid around the room and landed on the Pensieve he had forgotten to put away the other day. He paused a moment, considering. Did he really want to relive that night, and that day? He had studied it many times before, over and over. Well, why not? That was what he had bought the thing for, after all. There was no other way he could get some sleep, after all.

He climbed out of bed, picked up the Pensieve and his wand and let his memories fall into the basin.

A glance at the silvery liquid quickly led up to his leaning over the Pensieve and sliding easily into the memory.

Next to him, Alastor Moody shifted uneasily. "I can't believe they're letting that man go," he muttered, "I mean, he was obviously a Death Eater, Imperious Curse my.."

"Alastor!" Dumbledore hissed under his breath, looking around uneasily. There weren't many people this time, and none of them were paying much attention to the two men in the corner, but still...

Moody rolled one eye, his magical eye still darting around the room. "Oh, like they care." He sighed and leaned back on the bench. "After all the work we went through to catch him...and they let him go, just like that, I can't believe..."

"Hush, Mr. Crouch is standing up to talk," Dumbledore reprimanded him mildly.

Moody snorted derisively; it was well known he thought the man far too nice to "former" Death Eaters; but said nothing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Crouch was saying, "I thank you for your time here, but there will be no more trials today."

An extremely relieved look covered Moody's face, but Dumbledore sat up straight, his face drawn into two thin lines.

"If you wish to attend more trials, you may see me right now," Crouch continued, "In the meantime, have a wonderful afternoon."

Moody stood up gratefully and stretched his legs. "Dumbledore," he began, turning, "I need to talk to you about--" but Dumbledore was already striding quickly across the room, an extremely anxious look on his face. "Oh, for the love of..." he muttered, not really feeling like dealing with whatever had gone wrong this time.

"Mr. Crouch," Dumbledore was saying in low tones, "I don't suppose you can tell me who is being tried tomorrow?"

"Probably that last batch of Death Eaters we just got, and then we're all clear for a while. Why do you ask?

"Can you tell me when Sirius Black is to be tried?"

A shadow crossed Crouch's face. "He will not be having a trial."

Dumbledore's eyebrows knitted together. "Why not?" he asked softly, knowing his tone of voice would unnerve the other man.

He was right. Crouch was an expert at maintaining his composure, but Dumbledore could see from the way he pulled his mouth in that he was far less than calm. "Why do you think? The man is a traitor!!"

"Have you asked him about that?"

Crouch gave Dumbledore a stern look. "He won't say anything but 'finger in a box, finger in a box' and laugh hysterically. It's as if he planned it all!! One of the worst Death Eaters I've ever seen, more mad then the whole lot of them..."

Dumbledore gave him a piercing, blue-eyed stare. "So you have decided not to give him a trial?"

"Everyone knows he betrayed Lily and James. He was their Secret-Keeper, remember?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, ever so softly. "But I believe in fairness, Bartemius. Why not use the Veritaserum Potion instead of just assuming things?"

"It is too late," Crouch said stiffly, "The Ministry has decided not to give Sirius Black a trial. He will not have one. Have a good day." He started to walk away, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"May I see him?"

"What?"

"I want to see Sirius. Talk to him. May I?"

Crouch hesitated. He had a policy of always obeying the rules, but he was a politician, and a bad judge of character. That meant he would do everything to get on the good side of the public, and if it got out that he didn't trust Dumbledore..."It's against the rules, Dumbledore," he said, in that characteristic stiff voice of his. "I cannot allow it."

Dumbledore fixed him with his piercing stare. "You do not trust me?" He watched Crouch fight an inner battle, rules versus admitting he didn't trust the man everyone looked up to almost as a god.

Cornelius Fudge, who was standing and listening nearby, shot Crouch a nervous glance. It was well known how uptight Crouch was. He tapped Crouch on the shoulder. "Mr. Crouch, you can let Dumbledore in, can't you, I mean, what would he do to Sirius? Everyone trusts Dumbledore, no one would care if--"

"The rules say no one may visit a top-security prisoner," Crouch said, drawing himself upright, "I am afraid I cannot disobey the rules." He walked away.

Fudge glanced at Dumbledore apologetically. "I'm sorry, Dumbledore, but..." he looked around nervously, and lowered his voice. "If I let you in, no one would mind and it probably wouldn't get out to Crouch that I did, and you wouldn't have to go telling people that the Ministry doesn't trust you..."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. Fudge was even more of a politician than Crouch. "All right," he said, "If you will let me in, I will not breathe a word of this incident to anyone."

Fudge bowed. "I don't see what harm it could do anyway, with all those dementors---" he broke off and shuddered. "Let's go," he said, and they set off.

A few minutes later, Dumbledore was walking through the cold, wet halls of Azkaban. Next to him, Fudge was shivering, most likely from the way the depression in the place seemed to freeze you from the inside out. Even Dumbledore was not entirely unaffected, but it was his way not to give any sign of it, so he kept without showing any emotion on his face.

"Here it is," Fudge said finally, pulling out a bundle of keys and opening the door. Dumbledore walked in silently. Fudge thankfully stayed behind, looking around nervously. Dumbledore had a feeling he was slightly terrified of Sirius.

All thoughts of Fudge went out of his mind when he saw the ragged man sitting in front of him. "Sirius," Dumbledore whispered.

Those sunken, dead eyes looked up at him. "Dumbledore," he said hollowly.

"They aren't giving you a trial," Dumbledore said shortly.

Sirius closed his eyes slowly, then opened them. He shook his head. "I know."

Dumbledore said nothing else for a long time, just watched the shadow of Sirius that was sitting in front of him.

"I didn't do it, Dumbledore," the shadow said finally.

Dumbledore only tilted his head to one side, still watching intently.

"I didn't do it," Sirius repeated, "You've got to believe me, Dumbledore, I didn't do it."

"I trusted you," Dumbledore said, "James trusted you." Sirius' eyes closed in pain at the sound of the name. "Do you have proof?" He watched as Sirius opened his eyes and shook his head painfully. "Then I can still trust you, but I am one man. No one else will."

Sirius nodded slowly. "Make them change their minds, Dumbledore, make them give me a trial," he pleaded.

"I cannot," Dumbledore replied, "I tried. They wouldn't listen." He stood up. "Goodbye, Sirius."

Sirius' eyes closed again. "Finger in a box..."

Dumbledore did not reply, but walked quietly out of the room towards Fudge, who had heard the whole conversation. "Let's go," he said to the other man.

Fudge nodded fervently, closed the door and locked it. "What did he mean, finger in a box, Dumbledore?" he said as they walked away.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "What was the last piece they found of Pettigrew?"

"His little finger," Fudge replied promptly. "And they sent it to his mother....oh. In a box." He looked at Dumbledore. "He planned it?"

"We can only guess," Dumbledore replied.

"So you still trust him?"

Dumbledore looked at the other man sharply. "Would I lie?" he said simply.

"Well..."

"I have yet to find proof that Sirius actually betrayed Lily and James. By all accounts, it makes sense, but without a trial and his alibi, I refuse to believe he did it."

Fudge looked uncomfortable. "Well, people weren't actually feeling very good about Sirius, and it wasn't like we could...and anyway, that was Mr. Crouch's decision, I couldn't--"

"If you had voted for giving him a trial, it would have been done," Dumbledore said softly as they stepped out of Azkaban, blinking in the sunlight. "I bid you good day." And with that, he Apparated.

Dumbledore slid quietly out of his memory and blinked at the change of light. He had never told anyone about that visit, and Fudge was smart enough not to say anything, either.

Though it was really one of his more brilliant schemes, getting Fudge to go against Crouch. Probably the only time anyone had managed to do it.

Dumbledore chuckled quietly to himself and climbed back into bed. Time enough to take care of the Pensieve in the morning.

He yawned, rolled over and went back to sleep.

This one doesn't have as much emotion but that's because it's Dumbledore. His emotions are kinda hard to capture, and I hope I did an okay job. I might change this a little later, to make it more emotional...might. If I do, I'll say something in the next chapter.

Oh, one more thing before I shut up. Does ANYONE know what a Harry Potter Author fic is? I've been trying to figure it out for months and I still have no clue. Please tell me if you know!!