A/N: Yeah! My cast is off! My hand still hurts like you wouldn't believe, but at leads my WPM are up! A word about an issue in this story: I refer to Sirius as Harry's 'father' and sacrilegiously extend Harry's last name. Now, people usually don't have an issue over Remus being the godfather, but I can see why they might be uptight over this parental role.
Now let me explain. My aunt remarried after uncle #1 messed himself up. She automatically took my new uncle's name. However, my little cousin (whose hair could rival any Weasley) was still known by her real father's name until a formal adoption paper could be drawn up. He was her legal guardian, but not her father. When he formally adopted her, she had to take his last name and only then was he her father.
If Harry were to be adopted by Sirius, which I expect he would be, Sirius would be for all intents and purposes, his father. In becoming Sirius' true son, Harry would have to take 'Black' as at least part of his last name. If Sirius were to die, and Remus were to adopt Harry to extend his guardianship, Harry would be either Harold James Potter Black Lupin or simply Harold James Lupin, see? Whew! Let's keep Sirius alive and kicking, shall we?
Why do my Author Notes insist on being so long? Sorry bout that, here's the next chapter. Now you see why I say Harry is left on his alone without even his family.
Part 5: Some Blindfolded Angel
Remus did not look at Harry as he moved back to the defense table. Mr. Ollivander was quick to sit down, away from the wand and the attention of the court.
Harry wished someone would do something, say something, anything. The deafening silence was driving him mad. The only sound he had heard since the 3 shimmering shadows of the Dursleys floated from the wand was his father's sharp intake of breath. Now, he would prefer anything to the silence, be it his father's screaming or Voldemort bursting through the doors.
Remus leaned over and gently touched his back, "Harry, if you cannot continue, let me know. We can do this when you are better rested."
Harry nearly argued, but looking into the werewolf's gentle gray eyes, thought better of it. He could not think straight and he doubted Remus was doing so well either. The full moon had only been a few days ago after all, and he had been working non-stop with Harry and the Ministry since this whole circus began.
He nodded to Remus, "I think we both need a rest."
Remus smiled slightly, his slate eyes strangely cut off from the world, and nodded. He stood up before Montere could call his next witness. "Your Honor, I request a 5 hour recess. Harry is not feeling well. He is not used to being held in Azkaban." The last part was said in a tone as cynical as he could politely make it. Du Lac granted the request saying that the whole court needed some time as well.
As everyone else stood to leave, Harry was sharply reminded of his situation with a warning jab by a nearby Orc. The filthy creature glared at him, daring him to try anything. Remus stood over the goblin-like guardsman.
"I want to talk to him alone if you don't mind," he said firmly.
The brown creature shook his head. "We doin our job, wolf. We havin our orda an we cana do nuthin fer ya. Th Elfie cumin wit us to Azk'ban tillin th trial startin agin. Ifin yeh wanna cumin wit us, yeh pleasin ta do so. But Elfie cumin wit us."
"Not back there," snapped Sirius harshly, startling Remus and Harry. His bright blue eyes glared at the Orc with such malice that even the Orc took a step back. "You're not bringing him there again."
The Orc stared at the ex-convict for a moment. Finally, realization came into his large green eyes. "I'n see yeh afore. Yeh th Black Elfie wh' killed a' dem dose en th street. Yeh hard'n ta break. I rememba yeh well."
"You'll not have him, Orc," he hissed, ignoring the Orc's words, "Not like you had me."
"Yeh'n th Da' o th Elfie, no? Lemme tell yeh now, Black'un. I donna care wha yeh think; yeh always 'Elfie' ta me. He cumin an no yeh. No'un bu' th wolf cumin ta see th Elfie till da trial ova. Mi'stry ordas."
With that, he nodded to the Dementors who drove Harry away to the back room where there was a portkey waiting. Remus put a hand on his friend's shoulder to keep him from following. "The Orc is right, Padfoot," he said soothingly, "I am the only one who can have contact with him until the verdict is in."
"He needs me, Moony," hissed Sirius, absolutely furious, "He needs his father."
If the conditions were any less serious, Remus would have been amused by the fierce defensiveness of his friend. Now though, he just wanted Sirius to calm himself.
"Are you deaf? You can't see him. I'll send him your love when I..."
"This is a set up," Sirius continued, rambling in his anger, "He could not have killed those Muggles. They're going to put him away like they put me away."
"Sirius, get a grip!" the werewolf exclaimed shaking Sirius roughly, "Why would the Ministry want to send their bloody war symbol to Azkaban? You saw the evidence the same as I did. His wand committed murder. How do you prove the owner didn't wield it when he claims not to remember?"
Icy blue fire stared into calm slate as Sirius redirected his anger. "Don't you ever say that again!"
"Go home, Sirius," Remus said, ignoring the accusation, "You haven't slept in days. Let me handle everything. In the morning, you'll feel better."
"Remus is right, Sirius," soothed Professor McGonnagal from behind them. Her eyes were overly bright, but she held herself as even as she ever did. "There is little more you can do tonight. A good night's rest may do more than you think."
"But Professor, I cannot leave him here…"
"This is not a request, Sirius," she responded, "I may not be your teacher any more, but I'd like to think I still hold some sway over you. You must leave him be. Remus will take care of it."
"How can you defend someone if you don't even believe in them?" growled Sirius staring at Remus who blushed slightly and looked down. "He needs someone who believes him. Who'll listen."
"Sometimes we must do what we think we cannot," the aging professor said. "You must trust in Remus and in the system. They will not do to Harry what they did to you. Now come. I'll Apparate you to your house. I fear you may splinch yourself."
With that, she rather forcibly led him away, leaving Remus alone in the courtroom save for one lone figure who drew up behind him. Dumbledore's eyes held a great sadness in their depths and he bent as though age had suddenly come upon him.
"Do not lose faith, Remus," he said gently. "There may yet be hope left. After all, you were the best Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts that I've had in a long time. If you cannot find a Dark wizard, then no one can."
"I'm just afraid of what I will find if I find the truth," Remus admitted, not looking at the Headmaster. His eyes were glued to the doors where he had watched his best friend leave, devoid of all hope.
"Do not be afraid. Fear has no place in a courtroom. Only the guilty need fear. You remember the conversation we had earlier?"
How could he forget? "Of course, Headmaster. But, it still seems so impossible to me. How can I tell them?"
"You cannot!" the Headmaster insisted fiercely, "Not if we want to succeed. Not if our suspicions are correct."
"I cannot hurt Harry any longer, Sir," Remus said turning to face Dumbledore. His voice had an edge of pleading to it. "Do not make me hurt him further."
"It must be done, Remus. If we are correct, then a dark wizard will be caught and punished for murder, among other things."
"And if we are not correct? What then?"
Dumbledore's eyes grew sadder still and his throat grew oddly rough with emotion. "Then a dark wizard will be sentenced and punished for murder…among other things. You cannot tell anyone, Remus. Not even Sirius. It would break his heart either way. And we need him to play a role yet in this."
* * *
After the first week of the trial, Sirius stopped coming. He couldn't watch this anymore; the horrible evidence brought up against his son, and Remus' strong, yet comparably weaker retorts made him sick. Countless witnesses were brought up before the court, the professors from school, classmates, Hagrid. And all their words were twisted to show Harry as unstable and dangerous; thrilling in death-defying acts and never ceasing to strut around as though the rules didn't apply to him.
It was Snape's testimony that surprised him the most, actually. He had not seen him since his imprisonment at the Riddle House and then he had wanted to tear out his throat. Snape left him. Left him to the mercy that Wormtail could never have; left him to the whim of the Dark Lord, mad with his lust for power. And all so his cover wouldn't be blown. He had expected nothing but condemnation for Harry as well. What was said, though was quite the opposite.
He had defended him! Or at least, he told the truth and did not allow his words to be twisted. He told the court that yes, Harry was in the habit of finding trouble, but that trouble usually found him first. The attack of Javen and the two deaths to follow were not his fault and neither was the death of Cedric Diggory. Therefore, they had no reason to attack Harry as they did in the deaths of the Dursleys. Sirius had not been in attendance during this testimony, but Remus told him about it. The entire room was stunned as though Voldemort had admitted to liking pink bunnies and fluffy pillows. Even Harry, in his quickly deteriorating state, snapped out of his daze.
However, Sirius knew what Remus would not admit. He knew they were losing terribly. Remus just did not have the experience needed to pull this defense off. Montere had the right evidence and the wits to manipulate them. If only that ruddy wand…
The wand. Sirius paused in his reverie. It was the first day of testimony that gave Montere the head start. And that wand. Everything revolved around it. Remus was right. The wand had committed murder.
The distraught father looked at the clock; it was nearly after midnight. How much longer would it be before he passed out from exhaustion? Hopefully not too much longer; his mind was drifting in directions he never wanted to go.
He could not stop thinking about all that evidence. Clearly Harry was at the Dursleys the night they died. He could not deny that any longer. Clearly he was found wandering the streets of Privet Drive when he was picked up, claiming not to remember a thing. Clearly his wand committed murder. Remus was right when he said that the evidence was too big to ignore and that the Ministry could never implicate their own war symbol. He believed the boy guilty, of that Sirius was sure. But did Sirius?
No, he berated himself. How could you think that about your own son? Only a very sick and disturbed person would…Then he stopped. Javen Derios. Derios had taken his son and tried to mold him into the perfect dark wizard. He had invaded his mind, abused him in so many ways. Even when he thought Harry was over that particular barrier, the boy was still not the same. But how could anyone be? Perhaps that was one horror too many.
Sirius could never understand what Harry had gone through, he had never been used like that. He had experienced other horrors, yes, but he had been older and better able to deal with them. And even then he almost didn't get over some. Perhaps Harry had been too young and driven too fast. And to be faced with that god-forsaken cupboard again would be unbearable. He would do anything to avoid it…
Tears sprang to Sirius' eyes and he did not have the strength anymore to brush them away. He cried a lot that night as events replayed themselves through his closed eyelids and he could no longer deny that which was painfully obvious. Indeed, he cried longer than he ever thought possible. And when Remus went over to make sure Sirius was indeed sleeping, a lone tear was still sliding down the exhausted Sirius' cheek as he slept sideways in his overstuffed chair.
* * *
1 month later
"Harold James Potter Black," Du Lac said grimly, "Stand up to receive your verdict. But first, do you have any final words to add to your closing statement?"
Numbly, Harry did as he was told and stood. The jury had taken only an hour to come to a conclusion about his guilt or innocence and none had looked at him when they re-entered the courtroom. Not a very reassuring sign.
To his side stood Remus. He had stayed by Harry the entire time, defended him as hard as he could, and for that, Harry was eternally grateful. As long as he had his support, he felt he could take on anything; even if that support had been gradually waning throughout the trial. He had given up nearly all hope on Sirius who was surprisingly present for the verdict. It was like Sirius was trying to distance himself from the boy as much as he could without actually abandoning him. When questioned, Remus only gave the boy a sad look and told him not to focus on that. What he needed to focus on was the trial at hand and on his mental state while at Azkaban. While his unreasoning fear of the Dementors, and now the Orcs, was no less than it ever was, he had learned how to live with it. How to go on living without the fear of his sanity. Even the court had to agree that Harry looked much more in control than when this hellish circus began. He may have looked more secure, but inside, he was still quaking.
Harry took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. "I know that the evidence against me is strong and that all you have from me is my word…but I don't know how else to stress my innocence. The Dursleys were not my favorite people in the world, but I would never harm them. They did take me in and they did not outright abuse me. I wish I knew who did this so I could let my relatives rest in peace. And it is my hope that the court will find and prosecute the killer despite what happens to me." It was a futile and brave last gesture, but it was all he could do. He did not harbor any illusions about what the jury's finding would be. So all he could do was pray.
"Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?" Du Lac asked the 12 witches and wizards. The head of the jury, a stout balding wizard stepped forward.
"We have, your Honor. We find the defendant, Harold James Potter Black, guilty on all charges of first degree murder against the family of Muggles named Dursley," the man announced dully. The courtroom was silent except for Harry's thudding heart, which he fancied all could hear. He felt suddenly sick, but could not move a muscle for the Orc's hot breath down his neck.
"And the sentence?"
"Life in Azkaban without chance of parole." The man looked at Harry for the first time since leaving the courtroom to discuss his conviction. His eyes burned into the boy's with tangible hatred and betrayal. "And may he rot there."
Harry wavered on his feet slightly, but the strong grip of an impatient Orc kept him in check. Du Lac nodded toward the Dementors and he was ushered out of the courtroom toward the portkey, which would take him back to his prison cell until the wizarding world could officially banish him and send him to Azkaban.
As he held onto the old glove, he looked over to Sirius who was staring at him with a blank expression. Then he looked at Remus, at the Weasleys, at Hermione, Dumbledore, Hagrid…everyone he had grown to know and care about since his 11th birthday 4 years ago. It seemed that everyone believed him to be guilty despite whatever past they had had with him. And as the courtroom faded from view as the portkey took effect, Harry wondered if they weren't right…
* * *
Cornelius Fudge watched the boy disappear with a sneer on his face. He always knew that boy would be trouble; he always had been a brat. All that fame did something to his head, not to mention that run in with Javen a year ago, which would have completed the job. And no one would listen to Fudge until it was too late. No, they were too worried about poor abused Potter to pay attention. The boy was dangerous. He had killed two men in cold blood, but the rest of the wizarding world just swept it under the rug as accidents. Now he had three more deaths to cover up and Dumbledore to deal with. There would have to be a public banishment ceremony before the boy went to the higher security cells of Azkaban of course, and Dumbledore was sure to make some sort of fuss about it like he had been the entire time.
How could Dumbledore doubt Potter's guilt? The evidence was right there, by Merlin! Even the motive was quite clear: they had begun to fight for the custody of Harry once they heard he had piles of gold hidden away. Rumor had it, the boy was not happy at all. The trial should have ended weeks ago. It was a waste of the busy Minister's time. They should have locked the boy up in St. Mungo's long ago.
He stepped down from his seat and wandered into the crowd to see how much damage control he had to do. It seemed not as bad as he expected. Most of the people had known Harry and, while they were subdued terribly, they did not say a word to him about the trial. They only stayed in their little clumps, talking in quiet, grieved tones. The two little sidekicks of Potter were standing apart from their families crying together.
But Fudge was only concerned with one man in the room. Sirius Black was currently being consoled by his werewolf friend as they headed out the door. What a pair they make, Fudge thought sarcastically. An untamed werewolf and an unstable godfather.
"Black," he called after him.
Sirius turned around to face the caller impatiently. He wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a long, long time. His eyes met the cold eyes of the Minister. He tried to manage a glare like usual, but was unable. Whatever hold the boy had on Black was gone, the Minister noted, and with it the fight in his eyes.
"Black, I have some things to discuss with you if you don't mind," Fudge said, smirking at his feeble attempt to hide any weaknesses from the Minister. The toll this trial had taken on him was obvious.
"What is it now, Minister?" asked Remus icily. "Isn't this enough?"
"I need to discuss the boy's banishment, wolf. So if you don't mind…"
"It's okay, Remus," Sirius said softly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I wanted to discuss this anyway."
Remus looked at Sirius for a moment, trying to determine how best to treat this situation. "Are you sure?"
Sirius' eyes hardened into icy blue stones. "Yes," he answered firmly, "I'm sure."
Remus nodded reluctantly, "Do you want me to wait for you?"
"Actually, if you don't mind," a new voice said, "I would like a word with you, Remus."
They turned to see Dumbledore who had just left the Weasleys' company. Fudge hid his scowl behind a well-practiced politician face. If he wouldn't be kicked out of office by the thousands of Dumbledore fans, he would remove him from that school. He was just as dangerous as Potter was through his ignorance and naiveté. Why was Fudge the only one who had an ounce of sense in this country?
Remus nodded at the Headmaster and followed him to a secluded corner of the courtroom while Sirius joined Fudge. He looked back at Padfoot and sighed. The man was in a fragile state now; why couldn't the Minister just leave him alone? This trial had hurt him beyond words, it had hurt everyone who knew the boy, and Remus feared what Sirius would do. Harry had been Sirius' salvation, his reason to go on living. Now, that reason was dead as sure as if Harry had died. He did not miss the sudden change in his friend during the trial and knew that Harry's guilt weighed heavily upon the new father's shoulders. Yet even as his mind told Sirius that Harry was guilty, Remus could still see the sudden spark of defeat in his eyes as his heart was broken by the jury's harsh judgment.
Following the Headmaster to the back of the room, Remus wished that what they were about to do wouldn't just be the final breaking point for an already wounded boy.
* * *
Sirius couldn't help but shiver as he entered the old fortress of Azkaban. He never thought in a million years that he would willingly set foot inside this prison again. But it seemed that Fate had a number of surprises up her sleeve for him. He knew that the only way to see his son was to enter the dark prison. So enter he did.
Ignoring the dementors around him who seemed to recognize him and his strong, unbroken spirit, Sirius sat at a chair before a sheet of glass. On the other side of the glass, he could see his godson being led in.
For a moment, Sirius allowed himself to forget everything that had happened so he could feel properly sorry for his son. The boy had changed so much since he had last seen him. Even after little over a month, Harry had lost way too much weight and a dead, haunted look was gleaming in his eyes; a look Sirius was more accustomed to seeing in the mirror than on the boy's face. It broke Sirius' heart to see the suffering on a child too young to have to deal with this. Sirius had been less than 10 years older than Harry was now when he first saw the other end of that glass.
"Sirius," croaked Harry when he was seated. His dulled emerald eyes shone with hope, "Dad, is it you?"
The sweet anguish that filled Sirius' heart at that simple title nearly broke all his resolve. "Yes, Harry," Sirius choked out, "It's me."
"I thought you wouldn't come for me," Harry said, nearly in tears, "They said you wouldn't. And the dementors are so close…dad, please take me away from here. I can't stand it. I'll go mad if I stay here. Take me with you. I can't stay here for the rest of my life."
Sirius had thought so too. He had wanted to die it was so bad; to die or lose his sanity. Unable to drift into blissful madness, he had settled for suicide. But even that sweet surrender was forbidden to him by the jail keepers. Those were stories that he had never shared with anyone, including Remus. But now he had to push all that aside to get the answer he longed for.
"Harry, did you kill those people?" The hope and fear that lit up Harry's features suddenly dulled and he looked vaguely angry. Or as though he wanted to be angry, but didn't have the strength. Sirius pushed back his urge to comfort the boy. "Harry, I need to know. Tell me the truth."
"I don't know, alright?!" he exploded, tears streaming down his face, "I can hardly remember my own name in this place! They set me up! Just like they set you up!"
"Who set you up?"
"I don't know!! Dad, please! I'm innocent! The dementors…"
"The dementors can wait, Harry. Innocent? How can you be innocent if you don't remember how your hands got to be covered in their blood, your wand filled with Dark curses? This is no case of missing fingers and loud explosions and laughing lunatics. Only of Dark Magic and its wielder. Now tell me the truth! Who killed the Dursleys?"
Harry stared at him for a long time, processing his words as he struggled to hold onto his sanity. Finally, he broke down sobbing, not even caring what sort of appearance he was making anymore. It was too much to handle. The dementors, the Dursleys, his screaming mother, and now Sirius' anger. It was too much.
"I did, ok?" he whispered defeated, "I did it. I killed the Dursleys and the Auror and Javen and my parents and you and…oh god…I killed them." He slumped down in his chair and for the first time in his life, he gave up.
"Did you, Harry?" asked Sirius in a softer tone now, "Did you kill the Dursleys?"
"I must have," answered Harry brokenly, "I don't remember, but I must have. Oh, God, even you think I did it."
"I don't know what to think anymore," Sirius whispered to himself. Then to Harry he said, "All I wanted was to make you happy. To be the perfect father for you. It seems I was living in a dream world."
Harry could not reply, but he shook his head fervently, begging Sirius to listen.
"I must be going, Harry," he stood up abruptly. At the door, however, he turned and looked back. His heart wept and wailed at him not to leave the son of his heart behind. He could not abandon Harry while they both still lived as his own father had done. Castor Black had loved his son like no other, yet he was an Auror, and his one true love was with the Ministry. He had gone to visit the young and frightened Sirius only once, basically telling his only child that while his mother Victoria would never give up on him, Castor had nonetheless cast Sirius from the family.
And as Sirius gazed upon the boy, he saw himself 13 years ago, looking at the unforgiving father. Yet he could not stop the words that came from his mouth.
"I have given custody of you over to the Minister. You are no longer my son and I have no claim on you. I cannot promise to visit again, because I don't plan to. And I cannot wish you well in your life, because I'm leaving you to the dementors. All I can say is…well…I loved you Harry. I hope you know that."
"And I loved you. I still do, dad. That's what family's for, right? To love one another despite everything?"
"I don't have a family, Harry. And neither do you."
With those words, meant to hurt or anger Harry so he wouldn't be looked at with such devotion by those brilliant green eyes, Sirius left. The intention did not had the desired effect, yet the boy's reckless sobs haunted him for years to come. A strange thought came unbidden to his mind during the lonely flight home on his motorcycle.
'I promised that I'd never make him cry.'
End Part 5
And now…some responses!
Dark Phoenix: I'm sorry I've been so bad about updating. I'll have you know that I'm working on Part 7 right now! ^_^ I'm so glad you like it!
A. Dee: Thanks for your critique! Does it really flow nicely? I always thought it was choppy and random. I'm sorry about the cliffie, but hey, the story writes itself… most of the time anyway.
Kay: Yes, poor Harry, * evil cackles*
Black Panther: Oh, what can I say to you? You are the most supportive person ever! *Hugs * I'm so sorry you got a detention. You tell that evil teacher that I am most displeased!!! I love your stuff by the way, don't stop writing! I keep up with it as often as I can. *laughs * I think I got your message loud and clear. I'm working on Part 7 as I'm typing this. Have no fear, I won't be so evil again.
Relle: I'm having trouble with my e-mail. It seems you aren't getting my e-mails lately. I can receive it, but for some reason I can't send. Um, I'm having trouble with your RPG. It won't let me in because it doesn't think I'm a member. Can you help?
