Truths

By Neurotica

Six

On a beautiful evening, late into June of 1986, as witches and wizards all across Britain and surrounding areas sat in their living rooms, owls delivered the most shocking news they had heard in years—since the days of You-Know-Who. It was perhaps even more shocking than finding out that little Harry Potter, now known widely as the Boy-Who-Lived, had survived the Killing Curse, thus ridding the wizarding world of the most terrible wizard of their time.

The Evening Prophet had printed a special edition documenting the story. From cover-to-cover, these witches and wizards read their papers. Feelings of shock, followed by disgust, disbelief, more shock, anger, sadness—and did I mention shock?—filled the readers as they learned of the day's events.

On the cover of that Evening Prophet was a man no more than twenty-one years of age. He wore recently acquired Azkaban Prison robes. His face was that of a psychotic madman; he laughed about his crimes in the faces of the readers.

For years, nobody doubted the charges brought against this man. Those who had known him in the years before the photo was taken were astonished, to say the very least. He seemed like such a nice young man, they thought. A troublemaker, sure, but not a bloodthirsty, power hungry Death Eater.

Others didn't seem nearly as surprised. These were the people who had known the man by family reputation alone. They didn't look at his accomplishments at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; they took no notice in his outstanding record as an Auror for nearly four years before his arrest. They looked only at the man's family. A family from which he had run away; a family he tried desperately to forget as he grew up. But they believed that a boy raised in a family such as the Blacks would surely turn out as a dark wizard, just like the rest.

Regardless of how much the wizarding knew about Sirius Black's history, the headline on the Evening Prophet dropped more than one jaw that night.

Sirius Black: Innocent!

This afternoon, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge held a press conference in his office concerning Sirius Black—the accused murderer of twelve Muggles and one wizard. Black has been in the prison of Azkaban for these past five years serving time for the crimes he committed.

However, Minister Fudge has told reporters that Sirius Black is innocent. The Minister refused to comment on the occurrences that led to Black's apparent innocence, but had this to say:


"For five years, we believed Black to be a murderer and a Death Eater; Lord—Whatchamacallit's second-in-command. These facts are untrue and Sirius Black is indeed innocent. He will be awarded over 600,000 galleons in retribution for his wrongful imprisonment, and has been set free this evening."

When asked about the murders that took place 1 November 1980—the day after the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—Fudge said that the true culprit was Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew, as we all know, was the young wizard who cornered Black that fateful morning. Blinded by fury and grief over the deaths of Lily and James Potter, Pettigrew attempted to catch Black. His plan soon backfired when Black—formally an Auror with the Ministry of Magic—caused an explosion on the Muggle streets of London, killing twelve innocent bystanders and Pettigrew, himself. All that was left of Pettigrew was his right index finger. Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin shortly after.

This, however—according to Fudge—is not the accurate take on events. It seems that Pettigrew—

"Well, there you have it, Sirius, the truth is finally revealed," Albus Dumbledore spoke from behind his desk in his office at Hogwarts.

Sirius Black sat in a chair across from the Headmaster, head in his hands, in complete disbelief of the occurrences of the day. He, Dumbledore, and Remus Lupin left the Ministry of Magic just an hour earlier. Sirius had been given a new pair of robes, and the house-elves at Hogwarts made a large spectacle of burning his old ragged prison ones.

Remus' disbelief was mounting just as high as Sirius' at the moment; this was not what he thought he would be doing this evening. His only plans were the usual one-man dinner and watching some old Muggle movie on the television Lily and James had bought him one Christmas.

"This is insane," Remus muttered.

Dumbledore chuckled while Sirius nodded his head in agreement.

"You're telling me. I never thought this would happen. Not in my wildest dreams. And I have to say, this still seems like a dream to me," Sirius commented more to himself than to the others in the office.

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Sirius, I believe I owe you an apology—"

Sirius waved the Headmaster off. "There was no way you could have known." Sirius looked to his right at Remus who now had his head buried in his hands, finding the floor very interesting at the moment. "There was no way anyone could have known. Lily, James, Harry, Wormtail, and I were the only ones who were to know; that's the way we wanted it. We thought it was the perfect plan. If anyone owes anyone an apology, I owe it to the two of you. We should have told at least you, Professor. If we had, Lily and James might still be alive today."

Remus looked at his friend, ignoring the last few comments for the moment. "You're right, Sirius. We couldn't have known about the switch. But I should have known you weren't the spy; I didn't have enough evidence to prove that you were. I should have known you would never betray us—especially Lily and James—to anyone. I should have known. But instead of storming the Ministry the day you were arrested, I chose to stay at home and wallow in my own self pity. I didn't give a second thought to your guilt. I should have demanded you received a trial at the very least," he said bitterly

Sirius smiled resentfully. "Do you really think those bloody idiots at the Ministry would have listened to you, Remus? They were all too wrapped up in Voldemort being gone that they didn't give a shit who they were throwing into Azkaban." Sirius shot an apologetic glance at Dumbledore who pretended to be interested in a portrait.

"Besides, I am a Black. If you were to walk into the Ministry and demand a trial for the son of two of Voldemort's most vocal supporters after all the supposed evidence they had on me, they would have laughed in your face. Not to mention the fact that you just happen to be a werewolf. They probably would have given you a cell right across from mine for showing your support for me. There was no chance, Moony." Sirius paused and smiled a bit. "Well, until today that is."

Remus tried to return the smile and failed miserably. The guilt he felt for his best friend being in a place that most had called hell was unbearable. Remus felt as though he had somehow failed Lily and James by letting Sirius rot away like that.

Making matters worse was the fact that the true traitor was out there somewhere...

Remus was finally convinced he hadn't dreamed about Wormtail visiting him the day before last. He had been there and now there was no telling where he was headed. It was insane, for lack of a better word. Of course, Peter Pettigrew never really had much common sense.

But why now? Why, all of a sudden, did the traitor come out of hiding? There must have been a reason... and Remus was determined to find out what that reason was.

A knock on the Headmaster's office door broke the thoughtful—slightly bitter—silence; Dumbledore bid the visitor entry. Neither Sirius nor Remus looked up until they heard a familiar voice.

"Albus," said a sharp voice the two had heard numerous times in detention, "I've just read the paper. Is it true?"

Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House and newly-appointed Deputy Headmistress, seemed in complete astonishment. Her hair, normally in a tight bun, was now a total mess, sticking up in very odd directions. It reminded Sirius of second year when James charmed her hair to have the effects of static cling. In her hasty entrance, she had yet to notice the other two wizards in the room.

Dumbledore smiled at McGonagall, apparently enjoying the frazzled look she was sporting this evening. "Yes, Minerva, it is all true. Sirius Black is innocent."

"And Pettigrew?" McGonagall asked in a strangled whisper.

The Headmaster's smile disappeared with a sigh. But it was Remus who answered McGonagall's question. "Peter was the traitor all along. He framed Sirius," he said quietly, still trying to convince himself of what was happening.

McGonagall looked at Remus as though she had never seen anything quite like him before. She then looked to Remus' left. McGonagall's eyes went wide, and her hand flew to her mouth in a gasp. "Black!" she hissed.

Obviously, even though the paper, Dumbledore, and now Remus had told her the truth, it was still hard to change peoples' beliefs. Sirius ignored the horrified tone his former professor used, and instead, reverted back to his school days.

"Professor McGonagall, long time no see. Still beautiful as ever…" he said, attempting his old charming smile.

McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts. When she opened them, she walked directly in front of Sirius' chair and stopped. "Stand up, Black," she said in her most stern professor voice.

Sirius looked from Remus and Dumbledore with a confusion on his face, but did as he was told.

And then something happened that three in the room would have never thought possible. The fourth would most likely deny that it ever happened... Professor Minerva McGonagall—perhaps the strictest professor to ever teach at Hogwarts—hugged Sirius Black. At first, Sirius didn't know what to do; one didn't hug this particular professor every day. In fact, this was the first time any in the room had seen this behavior from the Transfiguration mistress. McGonagall was hugging Sirius like a long lost son. Awkwardly, Sirius patted her on the back.

Remus was torn between being moved by the moment, and bursting out laughing at the very idea of McGonagall hugging anyone, least of all, Sirius. Looking at Dumbledore, the old man seemed to be fighting the very same battle.

To Sirius' immense relief, McGonagall finally released him. She cleared her throat—though it sounded as though she had a severe head cold—and turned around to glare at the wizards threateningly. The Headmaster's lips were twitching dangerously, but the glare she turned on him ceased all movement at the corners of Dumbledore's mouth. McGonagall conjured a chair out of thin air, placed it next to Sirius, and sat. Dumbledore made to offer her a lemon drop, but with another look from her, he shrugged, and popped one of the yellow sweets into his own mouth.

"Ah, Heaven," he muttered. Sirius and Remus laughed while McGonagall rolled her eyes and huffed. Sensing the impatience of the Deputy Headmistress, Dumbledore finally spoke. "Well then, since Minerva is here, perhaps we shall discuss the search for Peter Pettigrew." All former humor was completely gone. "Remus, Sirius, perhaps you could describe Pettigrew's Animagus form?"

McGonagall gasped again. "He's an Animagus? But… h-how?"

The two former students exchanged a look, and then looked at Dumbledore. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but the Headmaster was quicker. "I shall explain later, Minerva," he said, looking at the younger wizards expectantly.

Sirius cleared his throat and spoke. "Well, he's got brown fur—just like his hair. Beady, watery, blue eyes, a fat bald tail—it looks like a worm, hence the nickname Wormtail—and most likely, he's missing a toe on his front right paw."

Remus continued, "He's also got a long scar on his stomach. It runs from his neck to his navel. He—er— got into a fight with... something a long time ago." Remus and Sirius exchanged another look. Wormtail received this scar on one of the Marauders' full moon escapades. It seems rats and werewolf claws don't mix too well.

Dumbledore nodded. "I will send this information to the Ministry. I am sure that Aurors will want to search your home and surrounding property, Remus, for any possible clues as to where Pettigrew may have gone."

Remus nodded. "I will be more than happy to comply, sir."

McGonagall looked deep in thought when she next spoke. "If Pettigrew has been in hiding all this time, why has he chosen now to reveal himself?"

Dumbledore sighed, "There could be a number of reasons to this, most of which seem very unlikely. However," he looked at Remus, "I do not believe he meant to be seen by Remus."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that was bloody stupid of him—great for me, stupid for him. He knows, maybe more than the rest of us, how excellent Remus' sense of smell is on the full moon."

McGonagall gave Dumbledore another quizzical look.

"I'll explain later," he told her again. "Minister Fudge has guaranteed to have all of the top Aurors on this case. And, with any luck, they will capture Pettigrew soon." Dumbledore paused. "Now, Sirius, I believe I have something that belongs to you." Dumbledore stood and crossed the room to a wooden cabinet.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at Remus who only shrugged. Dumbledore began to search the drawers for something.

"I know it's here somewhere," Dumbledore muttered. "Ah! Here it is."

The old wizard pulled out a long gray box. He turned back to the others and smiled at Sirius.

"Just after you were arrested," he began, "I took the liberty of having a good friend retrieve this for me. At the time, I merely thought it should have been kept for evidence rather than being snapped in half, as is Ministry guidelines. But now, I believe it's time that it is returned to its rightful owner."

Dumbledore held out the mysterious box for Sirius to take. He thought he had an idea of what it could be... No, there's no possible way, he thought.

Once he removed the cover of the box, his eyes grew wide as saucers, and he let out a short laugh in amazement. In the box sat a twelve-inch tube of wood. Mahogany. The core of the tube was dragon heartstring.

It was a wand. But not just any wand... Sirius Black's wand.

Sirius removed the wand—his wand—from the box and held it tightly in his right hand. Instantly, he felt a warmness he hadn't felt since he was eleven years old. It was the feeling of a wand welcoming back its owner.

Sirius looked at Dumbledore in complete disbelief. "H-how?" he managed to ask.

Dumbledore chuckled and sat back down. "Let's just say old Alastor Moody isn't as useless as the Ministry seems to think he is." That twinkle was looking very mischievous at the moment.

Sirius and Remus both laughed. Even McGonagall seemed impressed that Albus Dumbledore—though the greatest wizard in centuries—had managed to come into possession of the wand of the country's most feared convicts.

Once it seemed that Sirius had gotten over the initial shock, Dumbledore spoke again. "Well, it is getting quite late. And if I am correct, the two of you have yet to eat anything this evening. So why don't you head down to the kitchens—I daresay you know where they are located—" Those blue eyes sparkled still. "—and have a bite to eat. You, of course, will be more than welcome to stay the night in the castle if you wish."

Dumbledore stood, and, following his example, McGonagall, Sirius, and Remus did as well. Sirius shook Dumbledore's hand. "Thank you, sir, for everything you've done today," he said sincerely.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "This should have never happened, Sirius. I give you my deepest apologies, once again."

Sirius smiled at the headmaster. "Thank you, sir."

Remus shook his hand next. "I'd like to thank you as well, sir. And I believe we will be taking you up on staying the night."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I will have a house-elf set a room up for the both of you."

Remus and Sirius nodded their thanks and headed for the door. Remus' hand was turning the doorknob when a thought popped into Sirius' head.

He turned back to Dumbledore with a look of anxious curiosity. "Professor, what about—I mean, I know I just came back today, and all—but what about Harry, sir?"

Remus quickly released the doorknob and turned around to hear the Headmaster's reply.

"Ah yes, young Harry Potter." The twinkling in his eyes was hypnotizing. "I wondered when you would inquire about him, Sirius."