(A/N) Writer's block is a pain in the ass. So is school. And photography projects. And busy schedules. And sleep. And tea and soda that are lacking in the caffeine department and aren't doing their job properly.
I'm sorry this chapter is so short and so, so crappy. I've had writer's block and haven't been regularly writing for my main fics. Instead I've just been reading a shit-ton of MCU genderbends, so yeah.
This chapter is not beta-read.
The last memory vanished into the darkness and suddenly Rose found herself back in Dumbledore's office.
The headmaster didn't say anything, only staring into the fireplace with a thoughtful look resting upon his face. Auror Bones looked slightly shaken and was slowly wiping her monocle on the inside of her cloak.
"Rose, you may now head back to class. Please tell your teacher that you were with me and are excused."
"But Professor, what about-"
The elderly wizard cut off the girl. "I will tell you if anything of importance comes from this, Rose."
And so, the raven-headed girl left Dumbledore's office, and thankfully she made it to her next class before it started.
"Kingsley, please replace all of the privacy wards." Dumbledore asked, to which his former student complied.
"What will be your course of action, Amelia, now that you have this information?" Dumbledore asked from behind his desk.
The auror in question rubbed her temple strenuously. "Honestly? I have no idea, Dumbledore. While the memories Miss Potter supplied give evidence that Black was not the Potters' Secret Keeper, we cannot ignore the fact that he killed all of those muggles and Pettigrew the day after Voldemort was defeated."
"But what if he didn't?"
The gray-haired woman narrowed her eyes at the headmaster. "What exactly are you implying, Dumbledore?"
"I believe you went to school Sirius, correct? I think we both like to think that the young man we knew could never kill several innocent muggles, even if it was to 'protect' those he loved. Then again, I don't believe we can judge a person based upon their school years in light of what we just learned of Pettigrew."
"Do you think that Black did not actually kill those muggles?"
"I'm just pointing out that we do not have all the facts. Are you aware that Sirius never received a trial?"
Amelia inhaled sharply. "What do you mean he never received a trial?! How else would he end up in Azkaban?"
"Towards the end of the war, Bartemius Crouch and Minister Bagnold began sending criminals to Azkaban without a trial. This was the scenario with notable Death Eaters, people whom the public had already condemned.
Sirius is one of the many that this happened to. Crouch and Bagnold were assured of his guilt and told all of us on the Wizengamot to focus on other cases."
"So you want him to receive a trial? Almost ten years after everything's happened."
Dumbledore shrugged. "We cannot let a possibly innocent man rot in Azkaban."
"Do you understand, Dumbledore, what would happen if news of this got out? Heads would roll."
"Discretion is your best course of plan here. My suggestion would be to move Black from Azkaban to a private Ministry holding cell. I'm sure questioning would be in order."
"A Veritaserum interrogation would be of no use. I wouldn't be surprised if Black wasn't exactly all there in the head after spending a decade surrounded by Dementors."
"Then bring in a Mind Healer. You have time. I believe prisoners are allowed to be kept away from Azkaban for three months, yes? That will give you time to review records, collect more evidence, and possibly receive more memories."
"I...this is a lot to take in, Dumbledore. I think it would be best if we headed back to the Ministry. I'll start up an official investigation, but I won't have Fudge sign off on it. This whole thing will stay between those of us in the room."
"Of course, Amelia. Good luck in the coming investigation. Please don't hesitate to ask if you need me to access any records as Chief Warlock."
"Thank you, Dumbledore." With that, the three aurors left the Headmaster's office and headed back to the Ministry.
At the end of the day, Rose decided it was time to write another letter. She had been receiving stares all day (gossip travelled faster than a wild fire at Hogwarts), so she decided to hide herself in a secluded corner of the library.
The skinny girl stacked several books in front of her to shield herself even further. Then, she set to work writing her letter.
Dear Remus Lupin,
Hello. My name is Rose Potter. If I am not mistaken, you were a good friend of my father's and used to babysit me as an infant. I have not seen you in many years and am hoping to reconnect with you. I understand if you do not wish to do this, however. I understand it can be hard since we both suffered that fateful Halloween.
I wish that you are in good health (aside from your furry little problem, and I hope that I am able to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Rosie
Keeping it similar to her letter to Sirius, Rose finished the letter before deciding to post it later that week, just in case something happened with Sirius.
"Excuse me, do you mind if I borrow that book for a moment?"
Rose jumped a little in her seat, startled by the soft voice addressing her. In front of the table stood none other than Hermione Granger, the green-eyed witch's dorm mate.
"Uh, sure. Which one exactly? There's quite a few books here if you couldn't tell." Rose quipped.
"Flying 101. They just posted on the notice board that we'll be sharing a flying class with Slytherin on Friday.
The raven-headed girl groaned at the announcement. "Great. I haven't flown since I was a baby and now I'll just embarrass myself in front of everyone."
"Not as much as me, I've never even touched a broom. Of course, I did read Quidditch Through the Ages so I know all about the sport, plus there were some tips in there for flying. I just wanted to read some extra material so I don't go in blind."
"I'm going to tell you right now, the reading probably won't help. Flying is a hands-on learning experience, and you're not going to learn very much from a book"
"You don't know that!" Hermione snapped. With that, she snatched the book from Rose's pile and practically stormed off.
Who twisted her knickers? Rose thought as she watched the retreating brunette.
