A/N: Oof, long time, no see, huh? Sorry about the wait, but life does get in the way. On a good note: I got into grad school! Of course, that does mean updates are going to be a bit more sporadic, but that doesn't mean they won't happen. I will be seeing this through, no one worry! With that, enjoy!
Harri misses Padfoot a lot. It's been eleven days since he left with that Legisparitus, and they couldn't even go home after. Moony took her to his flat after, making a bed for her on the couch. He tries very hard to keep her busy, reading with her, coloring, even teaching her how to play chess. It's not wizard's chess, just muggle, and that thought makes her sad.
Moony sends letters to the Legisparitus and the headmaster the whole times, owls flying in and out of the window he keeps open. Sometimes, he'll let her write little messages as well, always folding the parchment so Harri can't see what he's written. Those letters go to Padfoot, and he's very curious to know what he'll receive. Still, Harri tries not to complain, or ask too many questions, but she can see the worry plain on Moony's face.
He makes dozens of cups of tea a day and doesn't drink them, stirring and stirring while he waits. Harri cleans up after him best she can, but that makes him feel worse, she can tell. She doesn't like putting both guilt and worry on his face.
This pattern goes on and on for days until finally there's real news. Harri can tell by the way Moony paces, gnawing on his bottom lip with such a ferocity it bleeds. He keeps these letters in his room, tucked away in the desk, so Harri can't read them. It means it's bad news, something that Harri shouldn't read.
She's tried to open the drawer, but she can't get it open. Moony probably magicked it shut. Finally, after dinner, Moony takes the letters out of the drawer and sits with her on the sofa.
"What do the letters say?" Harri asks. She knows better to grab them from his hands, but she can't help but wanting to. She sits on her hands instead.
"Some are from Padfoot, but they're not…" Moony looks at the letter, all folded up neatly. "Maybe we shouldn't read them. He's alright, love, and he misses you."
"Can we write a letter to him?" Harri asks, perhaps a touch desperately. "We can give it to the Legisparitus to give to him."
"Of course, love," he says, surprised. "I've been… distant, I know, and I'm so sorry—"
"It's okay," she says easily, but Moony shakes his head.
"It's not," he insists. Harri ducks her head, embarrassed. That's one thing she's never been able to figure out, why Padfoot and Moony keep apologizing. They're the best people in the world, but they apologize like they're the worst.
"Harri, sweetheart, you're the top priority—"
"Padfoot should be," she says, adamant. "Padfoot's in trouble right now, so you can't worry about me."
"It's my job to worry about you both," he mutters, racking a hand through his hair. "Listen, the Headmaster and Abbott wrote us another letter. We're getting a trial in front of the Wizengamot."
"What does that mean?"
"That means that Abbott will help Padfoot explain everything that's happened, and then the Wizengamot—they're like a council—will decide to set him free or not," he explains. Harri looks at her hands, twisting her fingers together.
"What's happened exactly?" she asks, though she does know some of it. She could hear them talking sometimes, about Wormtail. She doesn't know who that is, but it's the person who should be punished for whatever they think Padfoot did.
"That… look, love, don't worry about it," Moony tells her, but he won't look at her. He's fussing with her hair again, leaving it sticking up in all direction.
"Do they think Padfoot's got something to do with my parents being gone?" Harri asks. She draws her feet up, hugging her knees tight. Suddenly, Moony pulls her up in her arms, squeezing tight, rocking her back and forth.
"Merlin!" he gasps. "I'm so sorry, love, we were supposed to—"
"They are gone, but it wasn't him" she says. It hurts that her mum and dad are gone, but she has Padfoot and Moony now. "We have to save Padfoot, so you have to tell me what happened."
"Sweetheart," Moony says after a moment, voice going flat. "We made a mistake. We trusted the wrong person, and your parents—"
"It was Wormtail, wasn't it? Mum and Dad trusted him and he let them down," Harri surmises. That makes her even sadder, that friends could hurt friends like that.
"We all did," Moony mutters. "Right. You're not old enough to hear this. Can't even imagine what Prongs would think."
Harri sighs. It makes her quite cross that no one will tell her what happened with Wormtail, but she knows better than to ask questions, especially when they bring up her mum and dad.
"Can we write the letter now?" she asks. Moony looks grateful for the distraction, going off to fetch a fresh roll of parchment and a quill. Harri writes carefully—she's still not very good with the quill yet—summarizing everything that Padfoot's missed, all the games, all the books, all of Moony's unhealthy, indulgent dinners.
Moony smiles, sad and tired, when he reads what she's written, only crossing out a few words that are misspelled before he writes his own message. It's much shorter than hers, but she thinks he feels the same way.
Minerva McGonagall is a very busy woman. She has ten NEWT students this year, and thirty-seven fifth years she's trying to get through their OWLS. Yet, instead of working on her lesson plans—and finding an advanced enough workbook for a few of her Ravenclaws—she is running errands to help a trial she doesn't even believe in.
The news that Sirius Black had betrayed the Potters had shaken her to her very core. She thought she knew Sirius, knew him almost as well as a mother could know their own child, the amount of times he was in her office.
The news that Sirius Black has not betrayed the Potters had shaken her too. She is filled with guilt, anger, and disbelief so heavy, she tried to instigate a row with Albus, of all people. It had taken her years to come to terms with the idea of an evil Sirius, and she suspects it will take her many more to come to terms with the idea that their own government is so broken that they couldn't even see that Sirius was innocent.
The second Saturday of term finds her in Little Whinging, stalking down the street to Number Four, Privet Drive. The sun is low in the sky, casting everything in an orange haze. She knocks on the door twice, two sharp raps that leave her knuckles stinging.
Control your anger, Minerva, she thinks.
The door swings and she finds herself face to face with a small, round child. He looks up at her with naked befuddlement, then pitches his head back to scream for his mother. Petunia Dursley is just the same as Minerva remembers her, made entirely of narrow angles. She has no idea how anyone could find comfort in this woman.
"Who are you?" she asks suspiciously. "Are you one of… his people?" By his, Minerva can only imagine that she means Albus.
"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts—"
"Come inside!" Petunia hisses, gesturing wildly. To Minerva's absolute indignation, she is pulled into the house abruptly. Part of her hisses at the atrocity, wanting to rip into Petunia, but she holds her tongue, taking her time to readjust her robes.
"What do you want?" Petunia asks, throwing a nervous glance to the sitting room windows. "Diddy, go on upstairs, love." The child starts to protest, but Petunia gives him a hearty shove, sending him toddling over to the stairs.
"I need to inform you of the on-going trial that your niece is a part of," Minerva says curtly.
"What's she done?" Petunia asks, scowling.
"She hasn't done anything," Minerva says, a little astonished. The child is only seven years old, after all. "Earlier this summer, she was abducted by escaped murderer—excuse me, alleged murderer—Sirius Black."
Petunia balks at this, blinking stupidly at her. Minerva sighs, producing a letter.
"This is a summons from the Wizengamot, asking you to stand and give your testimony," she explains. "I am here to observe your oath of absolute secrecy." The statute of secrecy had some loopholes on muggles giving testimony in court, and Geoffrey Abbott is planning to exploit them all. Minerva doesn't know whether to be impressed or appalled. Hufflepuff loyalty to a fault, she supposes.
"What testimony?" Petunia asks.
"You are to give your account on what happened when Harriet was taken," Minerva says. "Explain to them why you let her go without alerting any authority."
"He was her godfather," Petunia argues. "My sister always prattled on and on about her freaky little friends and he was one of them. Better they raise her than us."
"There was nothing malicious about him?" She's not supposed to ask additional questions, just deliver the summons and take the oath, but she can't contain her curiosity.
"Dreadfully unkempt," Petunia sniffs. "The state of his hair!"
"That's all?" she presses.
"Yes," Petunia says testily. "I won't go, you know. I want nothing to do with your kind."
Minerva looks at her for a long moment, thinking back to Lily. How could they be related? Lily Evans had been a bright, kind, compassionate young lady, who wouldn't hesitate to step up and offer her assistance, any way she could.
"Then you'd be forsaking an innocent man to imprisonment." As she says the words, she knows them to be absolutely true. It doesn't matter which way her faith is shaken; she must press on for even the tiniest sliver of hope that Sirius is innocent. Petunia pales and starts fidgeting as though someone has lit hot coals under her feet.
"I… I wouldn't know where to go," Petunia says. Minerva resists the urge to roll her eyes.
"Someone will, of course, come to collect you."
"What would I even say?" Petunia whispers. Minerva sighs, softening slightly.
"If I may suggest, Mrs. Dursley, the truth?" Petunia goes pink, her scowl coming back in full force.
"Fine," she says sharply. "Fine, I'll do it."
"You'll have to take an oath, to ensure secrecy," Minerva says, producing her wand. Petunia gives it a weary look.
"Oh, best believe I will never speak a word of this to anyone," Petunia, sneering like it's an insult. Still, she holds her hand out.
"Petunia Dursley, do you swear to keep what you know about magic a secret, absolute and unchanging?"
"I swear."
Thin blue lines wind around Petunia's wrists and neck, and she stands stock-still, frozen in terror until they disappear.
"The letter has all the information you need to know," Minerva tells her. She turns to go, pausing for a moment to look back at Petunia. "You're doing the right thing."
Now, it's high time that she did the same.
Azkaban doesn't change, and Sirius thinks it never will. It is still dreadfully cold, an icy sort of chill that seeps into his bones despite the September warmth. In a stroke of cruelty, he is put right back into his old cage.
Thankfully, Abbott comes round nearly daily, bearing scrolls and scrolls of legal plans. They're in the back office often, and while Sirius enjoys the opportunity to stretch his legs and get some goddamn air, he hates passing by the other cells.
All they do is remind of what could've happened to him, what still could happen to him. Panic turns to fear as he thinks about Harri, and how Moony will have to explain why he won't be back. Every he thinks about that, anger and dread rage through him as he contemplates where Harri will be sent.
Phillip Hotchkiss raps on one the bars of his cell, jolting him from his reverie.
"Er, Mr. Black, the Legisparitus is here," he says. Sirius snorts; he can't quite wrap his head around anyone calling him "Mr. Black" but he supposes that's him now.
"Right you are, Philly," he says, clambering up to his feet. "After you."
He walks the familiar path to the back office, keeping his eyes front. Some of the prisoners recognize him and scream out of name, or just scream, slamming themselves against the bars. Sometimes, they throw themselves with too much vigor and Hotchkiss has to stay behind and stun them into unconsciousness to heal them.
Abbott's waiting for him in the back office, the small table already covered in parchment.
"Ah, Sirius," he says, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Alright?"
"Suppose," he responds, eyeing the stack. "Right, we before we get into it, I have two things for you."
He's handed two letters, and judging by Abbott's smile, one of them is from Harri. He spies her handwriting immediately, just as abysmal as James' was, though she does some letters like Lily. Inexplicable.
The second one, surprisingly enough is from Professor McGonagall. He balks a little at what it might say and shoves straight away in his pocket. He'll read it if he's in the mood for the lecture that is sure to be there.
He rips into Harri's letter, though, too impatient to wait.
Dear Padfoot,
Hope you are doing alright. We miss you a lot! It's a bit boring without you, and sometimes Moony and I are both sad. We hope that you are alright and not sad. Moony says that the Leguspartis Legisparitus will get you home soon. Hopefully the council will understand it was a mistake and they will apolgise apologize. I learned to play chess, but it is just regular chess. Moon says that he likes this better because the pieces do not yell at him. I would like to play wizards chess, but I don't want to be yelled at! Moony and I have finished that book about the wardrobe. It was really cool! They had to fight an evil witch, but then Father Christmas and a magic lion helped them win. We're reading another book about the same place, but it is about different children. Moony says we're reading them out of order a bit, but I don't mind. I miss Kreacher a lot, espeshally especially his French onion soup. It's alright, though, because Moony gets take-away sometimes. We ate some Indian food (moony says Dad and my gran are from there) and I liked the curry a lot! And the bread. When you get back, we shall have some more, a whole feast.
Love you loads!
Harri
PS. I am passing the letter to Moony now.
Pads,
Keep the faith. You'll get out because you're innocent, and if not, we'll do a runner and fuck off to America. Apparently, the schools there are just fine—no Hogwarts of course—but we'll train Harri up ourselves.
Don't do anything stupid.
Moony
Sirius swallows back the sudden lump in his throat, blinking fast to appease the sudden stinging in the back of his eyes. Things must be getting dire in the kitchen if Harri misses Kreacher. He shakes his head, trying to clear it. Abbott shoots him a smile and at once, Sirius goes pink.
"Er, just the usual," he mutters, waving the letter before stuffing it into his pocket to reread letter. Harri, and mostly Moony, have sent a few others and rereading them over and over again is the only that keeps the dementors away.
"I'd go mad without my little Hannah," Abbott offers up. "We should introduce our girls, they'd be fast friends."
"Right," Sirius snorts. "Shall we have the playdates here or at yours?"
"Sirius, I do have a plan," Abbott reminds him, a touch more sober. "The first trial is about your Death Eater charge. That one will be the easier one of them. The other two are about Harri's alleged abductions, and then the thirteen muggles. That last one will be tricky, but we'll just focus on them one at a time, yeah?"
"Right," Sirius says. "What's the plan?"
A/N: And now, time for the trials! Working through the first draft of the next chapter, so hopefully that will be on your screens soon. Tell me what you thought, any criticism you have, any thoughts. Till next time!
