A/N: Hello! Look at that, update number 4 on time! Anyways, enjoy some of the wizarding world updates through the eyes of some of my favorite characters, plus the second trial!
Bill Weasley is in six NEWT classes this year and is up to his bloody ears in homework and studies. He sits at the Gryffindor table, a plate of bacon and eggs laying untouched in front of him. He's scrawling a last-minute essay for his ancient runes class when suddenly, there's a slam that jolts him out of his essay.
Scowling, he turns to find Tonks, hair a fiery orange today, clashing horrifically with her Hufflepuff tie.
"Morning," he says pointedly, waving at her with his quill. Tonks slams a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of his plate, a wild look in her violet eyes. Actually, Bill's been far too busy to write to his own family, let alone read the paper.
"Look!" she commands. Bill sighs, sets aside his essay.
SIRIUS BLACK CLEARED OF ALL DEATH EATER CHARGES
"Bloody hell," Bill mutters, grabbing the paper. He scans the article, reading through it quickly. Apparently, Sirius Black did not sell out the Potter family, and he never was a Death Eater. He glances at Tonks, noting the crease between her eyebrows.
"Alright?" he asks, voice quiet. Tonks frowns, staring intently at the picture. It's of Sirius Black being ushered from a courtroom, looking haggard and tired. He doesn't look evil or anything, just spent.
"I guess," Tonks sighs, dropping into the seat next to his. "Dunno… never really knew him. I was eleven when he, er, went away. Didn't really come by to visit. He and mum got on alright, but she was fifteen years older than him. Mum doesn't talk about her family, at all."
"Sorry," Bill says, a bit awkwardly. There's only one member of the Weasley and Prewitt clan—still alive that is—that the family doesn't speak to, as far as Bill knows.
"Doesn't matter," Tonks says, shrugging. "Suppose he might be by, for tea or something."
Bill snorts at the image. In his mind, Sirius Black is still the Notorious Murder Who Killed Thirteen Muggles. It's strange to think of him at Andromeda Tonks' table. She's one of the sternest women he's ever met, regal looking and deadly sharp.
"Send an owl if it ever happens," Bill snickers. Tonks smiles, to his relief, and tousles his hair.
"I don't know what's scarier, my mum or Sirius Black," Tonks drawls. "Either way, I suppose I can take him off the list of Death Eater family members I have."
The smile freezes on Bill's face—actually, he's not quite sure what to say to that—but Tonks smiles, turns her hair a vibrant pink, and gives him a two fingered salute as she makes her way back to her own table.
Despite being home, Padfoot doesn't actually get to spend too much time with Harri. The barrister—she can't even say the other word, too difficult—is over all the time, having meetings while Harri's to play by herself in Moony's room.
She doesn't mind too much, but it does make her very cross. She's not a baby, she's seven years old. She can read, and write, and she's learning all sorts of things from Moony's books. Maybe she could even help.
Harri thinks about that often, about being allowed to help, to save Padfoot. She daydreams about walking up to the council and saying something so magical and smart that they just let Padfoot go home. Then he won't have to worry or be scared, and they can be a proper family again.
The before Padfoot's next trial, everyone's sitting at the kitchen table, talking about what to do. Harri presses herself to the door, positioning her ear right by the keyhole, focusing hard to listen. Behind her, the Puddlemore figurines are plotting their grand escape.
"—only defense is the wand," someone says.
"That's it?" Padfoot asks, sounding tired and scared. "That'll definitely cinch it."
"Sirius." Moony's voice sounds a bit strained, like Aunt Petunia's when she can't yell in public. "Trust Abbott, please?"
"Of course, I do," Padfoot argues. It's a bit funny that Moony never really calls Padfoot "Padfoot" unless he's talking about him to her.
"I, er, think we might have to have a serious chat about the unregistered Animagus business," says the barrister, Mr. Abbott.
"That's the only chat I can have."
"Sirius!" Moony growls. There's a muffled smack.
"Alright, keep your hair on! Sorry, Geoff, go on."
The words get too quiet, and Harri makes her way back to the pitch. One of the players flies out, skirting around her like they're daring her to catch them, but Harri just lets him go. She sits on the bed, and not for the first time, she wishes things could go back to the way they were at Grimmauld place, before Moony had to go and Padfoot went a bit mad.
She lays back on the pillows, just remembering. She hopes that Kreacher is alright, that he's getting enough to eat and that he isn't bored. At least he doesn't have to cook or clean as much.
She must fall asleep because the next thing she knows, the room is dark and Padfoot and Moony sit on either side of her. She squirms a bit, sitting up.
"Did Mr. Abbott go?" she asks. Padfoot strokes her hair softly, gently tugging apart the tangles. Moony smiles at her, nods, and presses a kiss to the top of her head.
"How much of it did you hear?" Moon asks, a twinkle in his knowing eyes. Harri blushes a little.
"Not much," she says honestly.
"Come on, Hazza, you've got to do better than that," Padfoot teases, pulling her into his lap. Harri smiles, leans back against his chest. "In fact, your dad and I used to sneak around Hogwarts all night long and never get caught."
"Really?" Harri asks, deeply intrigued.
"Never mind that," Moony says quickly. "Darling, we have to… tell you something."
"What?" Harri asks wearily. She doesn't like the nervous set of Moony's mouth.
"Love, you'll have to go with Mr. Abbott for a night," Moony explains. Instantly Harri starts to protest, but Padfoot assures her it's only one night.
"Just for tomorrow night," Moony promises.
"Do you double promise?" Harri asks, holding her pinky out. Moony loops his own with it, nodding somberly.
"But why do I have to go?" Harri asks. Padfoot and Moony exchange nervous glances. Another one of those secrets they don't think she's old enough for.
"Er, I'm going to be ill tomorrow," Moony says finally. "I can't look after you and Padfoot can't look after you alone, he's not allowed."
"Alright," Harri agrees finally.
"It'll be fun, pet," Padfoot says, tickling her side. "Geoff's got a daughter about your age. Be nice to meet other children, wouldn't it?"
Historically, Harri's never had the best track record with girls, but hopefully, Mr. Abbott's daughter will be nice. Maybe she'll want to play dolls. Maybe they'll be magic dolls, even.
"Suppose," Harri shrugs.
"Let's do something fun tonight," Moony suggests. "You choose, Harri, anything you like."
What Harri would like would be for everyone to just be at home, and not worry, but she suggests they play with the quidditch pitch by the fire. Moony and Padfoot are pleased, and they even play with her made-up rules.
Moony even orders take-away, without any of the vegetables Harri doesn't like, and lets her eat all the buttery-est pieces of naan. Finally, the quidditch players throw a fit, shaking their little arms and swearing. At that, Harri suggests they pull out the gobstones set.
The next morning, Harri wakes on the couch, laying in Moony's lap. Padfoot the dog lays over her like the world's softest duvet. She wriggles out of their embrace, making her way to the bathroom. When she comes back, Moony's slumped over Padfoot the dog, facedown in his fur.
"Morning," she calls in a soft voice. Moony wakes first, rubbing his eyes before he offers Harri a sleepy smile.
"Hiya, darling," he says. "Be there in a mo'"
He ambles off to the bathroom, waking Padfoot the dog, who turns right back into Padfoot the man.
"Sleeping as the dog is much more restful, but it's murder on my joints," he groans, stretching. "Morning, Hazza, sleep alright?"
"Yeah, fine," she says. "Padfoot, will you get the tea down? Moony doesn't like me climbing up the cabinets."
Padfoot nods, stumbling to the kitchen. Moony and Padfoot both take a very long time to wake up fully, but she supposes all adults are like that. Padfoot starts a pot of tea, rifling through the fridge for eggs. He scrambles them up, serving Harri a slice of toast with eggs on it. She pours tomato sauce all over it, eating it happily.
"Make some for me too, will you?" Moony asks, dropping into the seat beside Harri. He ruffles her hair in greeting.
"Oh sure," Padfoot says rolling his eyes. "Shall I serve you your bloody tea, as well, your highness?"
"That'll be all," Moony says, putting on a funny posh voice and winking at Harri. She giggles into her glass of pumpkin juice.
After breakfast, Moony packs her bag for her while Padfoot sits her down between his knees, running a comb carefully through her hair. He sort of plaits it, twisting pieces around until he finally ties the entire thing up with a ribbon. Harri predicts it'll fall out within the hour, if she's lucky.
Moony takes her to Mr. Abbott's house himself. It's in a small town, where the houses are all far apart and trees are everywhere. The leaves are just starting to turn.
The house they go to is a small, but cheery looking place. They've got a bright yellow door. Moony knocks on the door twice, taking Harri's hand. It's Mr. Abbott who opens the door, smiling at the pair of them.
"Oh, please, come inside," he says. "Hello, Harri, how're you?"
"Alright, thank you," she says a little shyly, looking about. The living room is painted the same yellow as the door, and the room is filled with big, squashy, cream-colored furniture. It's a bit like being inside a lemon.
"Right, Remus, I'll be going to yours in a minute, just have to finish gathering the notes," Mr. Abbott says. "Elizabeth, Hannah, come say hello!"
A tall, thin woman walks out of the kitchen, brushing off her hands. Her hair is done up in more tiny little plaits than Harri can count. She's dark skinned with dark brown eyes and a kind smile. She reminds Harri a bit of her nursery school teacher.
"Hello there," she says, crouching by Harri. "You must be Harri, lovely to have you."
"Thank you," Harri mumbles.
"Harri, darling, we've got to go," Remus says, holding his arms out for a hug. Harri clings to him tight, pressing her face against his shoulder. "Mind Mrs. Abbott, please."
"Okay," Harri says, releasing him. Mrs. Abbott gives Moony a nervous smile.
"Is 'good luck' an alright thing to say?" she asks. Moony goes promptly pink.
"Er, as alright as anything," he says.
"Sorry, I've never met a—well, I'm sure you're all lovely," Mrs. Abbott says quickly, looking a little uncomfortable. "Well, good luck, then."
"Thanks," Moony says. He presses a kiss to the top of Harri's head one last time before he heads off.
Mrs. Abbott pats Harri shoulder, leading her into the kitchen.
"Just a minute, dear, let me go see where Hannah is," she says. "Please, take a seat, have a biscuit."
Harri stares around the kitchen, another room with lemony walls. Vases full of an assortment of colorful flowers sit on every counter, and a huge flowerpot sits on the window ledge.
"Here she is," Mrs. Abbott says, guiding a small girl into the room. She looks a lot like Mrs. Abbott, with her brown skin and big brown eyes. Her hair is in braids too, though not as many or as thin as her mum. Little yellow beads hang on the end of each one. Harri wishes she could have hair like that. "Hannah, say hello."
"Hello," Hannah says dutifully. "I'm Hannah."
"I'm Harri," Harri says. Suddenly, she's shy. Her dress—not really even a dress, but one of Moony's sweaters that falls past her knees with the sleeves hemmed—isn't as nice as the ones Hannah and her mum have on. Her own hair falls in messy clumps, the ribbon tangled wildly in the curls.
Hannah offers Harri a nervous smile, then looks up at her mother. Mrs. Abbott pats her daughter's cheek, smiling kindly at her. It makes Harri think of Padfoot and Moony, and the intensity with which she misses them rises.
"Why don't you play in the garden," Mrs. Abbott offers. "Hannah really enjoys flowers. Love, why don't you show Harri your flower beds?"
Hannah nods, stepping up and taking Harri's hand to lead her to the back garden. It makes her think of that boy in Quality Quidditch Supplies, the redheaded one with more siblings than Harri had ever seen. It makes her miss him. She hopes he's doing alright.
"Do you like tulips?" Hannah asks, showering her a patch where flowers of many colors stand tall. "They just bloomed."
"They're nice," Harri says. She doesn't really know much about flowers. While the Dursley's made her cut the grass as one of her chores, she wasn't allowed to touch the flowers. Just as well; she never really had an interest in them. "Colorful."
"Mum put a spell on them to make them bloom," Hannah explains. She kneels next to them, leaning in to sniff one. "They bloom around my birthday, naturally. That's in April."
"Oh," Harri says, copying Hannah and sitting. "Mine's in July."
Hannah and Harri really don't do much after that. Hannah shows her the roses, the daisies, and the sunflowers. She knows a lot about flowers, and Harri doesn't mind letting her talk. As the sun is starting to set, Mrs. Abbott calls them in for supper.
"Did you have a nice time?" she asks them as they wash up at the kitchen sink.
"Yeah," Harri says politely. "Thank you for having me." Even as she says it, she wishes she was back at home.
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Abbott says. She smooths down Harri's hair, hands her a dish towel with flowers all over it.
"What's your favorite flower?" Hannah asks, once she's clean too. Thankfully, Harri's saved from answering when Mrs. Abbott serves them supper, roast potatoes and chicken. After dinner, Harri offers to help with the washing up, but Mrs. Abbott just gives her a strange look, pulling out her wand and making the plates do their own washing up.
"Shall we read a book before bedtime, girls?"
The books Mrs. Abbott reads are not like the books Moony and Padfoot like. They're all about little witches having fun in forests and gardens, playing with magic flowers and bowtruckles. Harri's almost relieved when it's time to go to bed.
That night, she thinks about Padfoot and Moony, the books they read to her, and the games they play. She misses them horribly, hoping that Moony feels better enough to take her back in the morning.
The trials been going on the four the past four days, and honestly, Sirius has a good feeling about this one. The first thing they did was scour his wand for spells. Debates were had about the spells used to blow things up, how control impacted spell release, and how muggles reacted to magic.
Umbridge has a field day with the unregistered Animagus thing, but to his absolute surprise, the Wizengamot had seemed more impressed than horrified at the thought of three fourteen-year-olds managing to turn themselves successfully into animagi. Sirius gets a citation—three hundred galleons, which is more than fair in his opinion—and a verbal warning, since he can't technically be charged for something he did underaged.
Umbridge cites the Black Family penchant for blood prejudice, and Abbott produces another character witness to talk about how Sirius was never like that. Somehow, they get Andy to talk about him, about his so-called weirdness as a child, and how they were the only cousins alike in the entire clan.
After that trial, Andy comes to find him, launching herself at Sirius and wrapping him in a tight hug. There are apologies and invitations to tea, but not tears. It's the one quality Andy shares with Bella and Cissy; they refuse to let go of their stoic coolness—though Bella has clear lost that tendency.
"After Bella and Lucius, I just thought…" Andy sighs. "I'm sorry, Sirius, sincerely."
"S'alright," Sirius mumbles, flushing a little. It's strange to have Andy pay him so much attention. The last time she'd had any patience for him was when he was a kid.
Sirius has sort of settled into a routine. Wake up, eat with Harri and Remus, go to trial, then come back to play whatever new game Harri has cooked up. Sirius feels bad about that, the way she must be so bored, but there's nothing to do for it.
After the trial, Sirius will buy her a broom or something, teach her to fly. That should keep her busy and happy. Prongs would be mortified at the idea that his daughter couldn't even fly yet.
The fifth day of the trial, everything changes when Umbridge calls Mrs. Pettigrew to the stand.
When Sirius was still in school, he used to spend summers hopping around to all his mates' houses, to spend as much time away from his parents as possible. Mrs. Potter had met his mother after first year and had promptly agreed to not only let Sirius hang around but lie for him every time they went to Remus's or Peter's house.
Mrs. Pettigrew had always been a bit of a frail woman, and though she was happy to host them, it was clear that Peter didn't like the idea of them bothering his poor mum. Those scant few days they were at the Pettigrew house were the only days in the summers when they were well-behaved.
Mrs. Pettigrew looks much more fragile now, like the slightest wind could shatter her. Sirius is flooded with guilt at the thought of putting her through this, but there's a quiet, dark voice in the back of his mind that asks what sort of mother raises a future traitor and death eater.
Umbridge is brutal with her, picking apart her every insecurity about not only Peter, but her husband. Mr. Pettigrew had passed when Peter was ten—a hunting accident. Apparently, he'd been drowned by a kelpie.
Abbott tries to be gentle, to remind her of the good times, but all that really does is make her cry. Still sobbing, she's escorted off the stand.
Hers is the last testimony, then the closing statements are delivered. Sirius barely pays attention, watching Mrs. Pettigrew try and fail to get a hold of herself. Fudge calls a recess, sending them away so the Wizengamot had time to deliberate.
"This court has deliberated over the trial of Sirius Orion Black and has found him… not guilty of the charge of murdering thirteen muggles!"
The court goes deathly silent, and Sirius desperately wishes for noise. Fudge clears his throat, unrolling the next parchment of paper.
"The trial for the murder of Peter Pettigrew is on hold indefinitely," Fudge announces. "Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt shall take the case and shall notify this court when sufficient evidence has been collected."
All the air in Sirius's body leaves him in a rush, sending him slumping over the bench. The crowd dissipates slowly, many members of the Wizengamot coming up to speak to Kingsley Shacklebolt. He's a fair few years older than Sirius, in the same year as Cissy.
Shacklebolt makes his way over to Sirius, offering him a grim smile.
"Congratulations," he says. Sirius thanks him a quiet voice. "I'd like you to stop by as soon as the last trial ends and you're cleared of all your charges. We could use a bit more help on the Pettigrew case."
"Yeah, of course," Sirius says, surprised. Shacklebolt offers him a wry smile.
"From what I remember, you had promise, Black."
A few more people come up to him, offering apologies and congratulations, when finally, it's Abbott, Sirius, and Mrs. Pettigrew left in the court room. She eyes him with the same watery blue eyes Peter has, and guilt rips through Sirius in a fresh wave.
"Are you pleased with yourself?" Mrs. Pettigrew asks, her voice shaking with rage.
"Mrs. Pettigrew—"
"My son is dead because of you!" she yells, voice thick with tears. "I spent years mourning him and now you come back and say that he's not dead, that he's a traitor, that he sided with—with you-know-who!"
"Mrs. Pettigrew, that's the truth," Abbott says, leaping in before Sirius can really say anything. "I'm so sorry, but that's it."
"You ruined his life!" Mrs. Pettigrew sobs. "He should have never met you! He'd be alive and well—here with me, where he belonged—if he'd never met you in the first place." She dissolves into tears, and Sirius just stands there, a lump heavy and painful in his throat.
The thing is, she's right. Sirius wonders often just what pushed Peter over the edge, what soured the love between the four of them, the brotherhood. He'd never considered that it could be him.
A/N: Ah, the complexity of the Peter issue… will definitely be exploring that as the fic goes on, and in subsequent fics of this this AU that I may write (though, as it stands now, I've got a couple already planned). Anyways, tell me what you thought! Till next time!
