** You all want longer chapters? I'll give you longer chapters! But you bring sin onto your own heads because they'll take me longer to write so there. Thanks to amazing typo, Meredith and Selenay. Only three? Boo Hoo! You lot are lucky I update at all with results like that!! Also thanks to Xia Sarrasri for putting me on your favourites list. Glad to see someone cares! **Glares at everyone else** I am considering all your suggestions and most of the characters you requested will be appearing later on in the fic. **
All characters are property of J.K. Rowling (except Mr. Wattling and Marcus Porter and the tall man who doesn't have a name as yet) and I'm getting really really sick of typing this up every single ****** time.
The Trial of Sirius Black - Chapter 8
Professor Dumbledore stood up. He moved towards the desk, making most people in the crowd hiss in disgust as he took his place in the chair on the other side of Wattling.
"Dumbledore's the defence?" Hermione hissed in Professor Lupin's direction.
"You'd be surprised at some of the things Professor Dumbledore is qualified for," said Lupin without looking up.
"I don't get it," said Harry, taking advantage of the time Dumbledore was taking to look Marcus Porter over. "It's not evidence as to whether Sirius did those things or not. It's…it's…"
"Irrelevant?" suggested Hermione.
"OK," said Harry.
"It's procedure," said Lupin calmly. Harry thought if he himself were any angrier and confused, he'd be foaming at the mouth. "First of all they try to discover whether Sirius is the sort of person who would do those things in the first place, then we get on to the real evidence."
"But this isn't-"
"Shhhhh," whispered Hermione. Dumbledore had stood up.
"So you believe that Mr. Black committed those crimes of which he has been accused, Mr. Porter?"
"Yes," said Porter.
"You believe that Sirius Black sold information to Lord Voldemort," everyone in the room flinched, a few of the women screamed, several younger wizards put their hands over their ears, "in regard to the whereabouts of James and Lily Potter, whom I'm sure you will remember from your own school days?"
"What?" said Porter. "He did what?"
"I never said that Mr. Black did anything, Mr. Porter," said Dumbledore with calm malice in his voice. "I asked you whether you believed that he would betray his best friend to Lord Voldemort."
Porter looked at Sirius. Really looked at him. The two men stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity.
"No," Porter said finally. "Not James. Peter, maybe yes. But not James."
"Thank you," said Dumbledore politely, and sat back down. At a wave from the judge, Porter resumed his position on the opposite bench, milk white and shaking visibly. His whole character seemed to have been transformed by what he had just heard.
The hush that had long since fallen over the crowd, became, if it was possible, even more sincere. Hearing this news once was one thing. It had made them angry. Hearing it a second time, from Dumbledore's lips, was something else. Now they were thinking, considering the possibilities.
Everyone knew, or thought they knew, that Sirius had killed thirteen innocent people in his rage after Voldemort's downfall. That he had murdered one of his best friends, Pettigrew. But most of the crowd had known James and Sirius. Potter and Black. Black and Potter. Without each other, the names had hardly any meaning.
Everyone thought they knew that Black had picked an opposite side to James Potter, but to do as good as murder him…
After Marcus Porter left the stand, the real prosecution was called forward. They were all either Aurors or ex-members of either the Magical Law Enforcement squad or the Department of Magical Catastrophes. All of them told the same story of how they had captured Black after Peter Pettigrew had been 'murdered'. Every time it was the same, as man after man swore on everyone's honour from their great grandmothers to their children.
It got so boring in the end that Harry was stifling yawns, and Sirius actually did yawn, very loudly and obviously.
The Head of Prosecution (Harry still hadn't figured out his name) glared up at him.
"You have something to say?" he snapped in his unnatural falsetto.
Sirius smiled again, quite pleasantly. "Only that you lot are boring me to tears," he said, making Hermione put her hands over her mouth. "They've all got the same tale to tell, Derny. Why can't you get off your backside and show us something new?"
Remus Lupin snorted into the sleeve of his robes, Ron had to stuff his fist into his mouth again. Harry didn't think it was funny. Any further and they'd put Sirius on trial for verbal abuse.
Seeing the look on Harry's face, Ron nudged him. "Lighten up Harry," he said with a smile. "You can see he's got them worried by how nice he's trying to be. And some of the audience are smiling."
It was true. Trying to feel optimistic and glad that Sirius was capable of a joke, Harry returned his attention to - what had Sirius called him? Derny? It sounded like a rabbit's name to Harry.
"My name is Dernicofitus," said the man angrily.
Sirius snorted. "And that's too much of a mouthful for anyone but you and your mother to pronounce. I'd get it legally changed, if I were you."
Derni – what was it again? – went red as a tomato.
"I call Minister Cornelius Fudge!" he announced in exasperation, tearing his eyes away from Sirius' gaze.
Uh oh, Harry though automatically, as the short, plump man in the trademark pinstriped suit and bowler hat approached the desk. Harry looked around at Dumbledore, and saw that his bright blue eyes were narrowed.
For Fudge, they conjured up another raised platform and another desk, albeit a small one. It was a massive room after all, but Harry wasn't sure whether it grew a little every time they added something new.
Cornelius Fudge swore on his honour and on the honour of his wife, Delaine Fudge. What a stupid name to get stuck with when you've got a first name like that, Harry couldn't help thinking.
"Would you now proceed to relate to us everything you know on both of these matters, Minister," said Durnicofitus.
Harry thought for a moment that something might have gone wrong inside his head, because all he could think was: why don't you just say 'get on with it then'? Save a lot of time and effort.
But then he realised it was probably because he was trying to take too much in, and didn't have any space left in his memory.
He made a mental note to himself to buy a pensive, next time he was in Diagon Alley, and tried to concentrate on what Fudge was saying between nervous glances at Dumbledore.
Harry had heard it all before. He didn't know why he was even bothering to listen. He knew it was all wrong anyway. The only thing was that as Fudge spoke, everything he said just seemed to fit into place. It made sense.
Harry found himself almost trying to believe the story, everything from the point where his parents had made Sirius their Secret-Keeper, past the point where they died, and back to the part everyone had already heard too much about, where Sirius supposedly killed small, stupid, innocent Peter Pettigrew.
But that's not what happened, Harry repeated to himself over and over again, that's not what I want to believe. He's innocent, and when he's freed we'll have a place of our own, just me and Dad's best friend…
And then it was over. Durnicofitus stood and bowed to the judge, Mr. Wattling. "That is all the prosecution has to add, sir," he said shrilly.
"Very well," said the judge. He looked like he'd been dozing off several times during the repetitive witness accounts earlier. "Will the Head of Defence please call his first witness."
**All right, there you go, five solid pages, three more than usual. If you want them longer than that you'll have to wait for weeks at a time! No, I don't hold grudges and I love writing this story because it's one of my most terrific **fans herself** but hey, gimme a break, I'm only human. If I put on my super shoes and gloves of glory **what the…** I might be able to post another chapter tomorrow, Sunday, the only day I DON'T have to go to school! Yay! Love Laterose.**
