Harry and Merope to the Rescue - Chapter 14

Disclaimer:

I don't own the HP universe, unfortunately.

Author's note:

Starting this chapter really made me feel like I bit off more than I could chew when I decided to include Walburga, obviously she is OOC, but it is what it is. Hopefully, it will all turn out all right.

Kreacher arrived back a Grimmauld Place with a slightly louder **POP** than normal, returning to the drawing room where he had been with Walburga Black before being called to the Potters.

"Kreacher, I demand to know where you went off to. Here was I in the middle of speaking to you and then, poof, you were gone. I want answers and I want it now." Walburga demanded.

"Kreacher is being sorry, Mistress," Kreacher said, "Kreacher is being called by Master Harry Potter and is not being able to ignore call."

"Impossible, Kreacher, Harry Potter is nothing more than a young child still wearing diapers, I would know if he had become your master," Walburga huffed."Have you been memory-charmed?" She didn't think one could actually memory-charm a house elf, but one could never be too sure.

"No, Mistress," Kreacher said, "I is not being memory-charmed. Master Harry Potter is being master in the future and is being explaining that the bonds be reaching out into the past." Clutching the letter Harry had given him, Kreacher added, "Kreacher is being given a letter for Mistress from Master Harry, he be saying it being a letter from Master Sirius."

Forgetting all about being cross, Walburga exclaimed, "You've a letter from Sirius for me?" Looking for it excitedly, she asked, "Well, where is it, Kreacher?" Then Kreacher handed her the letter and she ripped it open excitedly. She had chosen to ignore the nonsense about a master coming back from the future or something, all she could focus on now was that her boy wanted to reconcile with had actually written her.

Mother,

I promised myself I would never speak to you again after running away from home at sixteen; however, I didn't know who else I could help me. We have never seen eye to eye on many issues and we fought a lot after I was sorted into Gryffindor. I understand if you choose to ignore my plight even now, but I thought even you would find fault with the situation I have found myself in.

I am currently an unwilling guest at Azkaban. I am being held here on false accusations and being refused a trial. I, a pureblood member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, am being held in Azkaban indefinitely, and I'm being refused the right to prove my guilt or innocence in front of the Wizengamot at trial. Rumor has it that my dear cousin Bellatrix was even granted a trial before she was brought to Azkaban, so that tells me that something else is happening here. The guards refuse to answer any questions I ask about my right to trial, and I suspect bribery at the Ministry to keep me from having one.

And if that isn't enough to convince you to help me, perhaps a reminder that I do not yet have a blood heir to inherit the title and holdings of the House of Black, so if I die in here, the name of Black dies, too. I didn't think you would want that, but then if you have already followed through on your threat to disown me, all of this is a moot point anyway. You probably wouldn't lift a finger to help a son you have disowned.

I've asked for parchment and quills every day I've been here, when I wasn't left in a stupor from the presence of the dementors, and I've been refused every time. They refuse to grant me any means of communication, whatsoever. I had a surprise visitor tonight, who gave me the means to be able to write this letter to you and he promised to make sure it was delivered. I'm not sure how he was able to make it past all the guards, but I'm grateful to him.

I'm begging you, if you have even the least little amount of affection left for me, please help me get a trial.

Your son,

Sirius Orion Black

Walbura rested the letter in her lap as she contemplated what she had just read. Someone in the Ministry was refusing to allow her son a trial. Someone saw fit to spout his guilt all throughout the Daily Prophet as if he had already been tried and convicted when he actually had not been. Walburga narrowed her eyes. Someone was going to pay. Someone needed a reminder of why it was a bad idea to be on the wrong side of the Blacks.

Folding the letter up now, Walburga said, "Kreacher, I'm going to the Ministry. Go get my best traveling cloak and meet me in the entrance hall." Kreacher left to obey.

Now in her bedroom, Walburga thought to herself as she was changing into her best robes. It was important for the Ministry to be reminded of who they were dealing with. First, she would request to see the trial transcripts for Sirius' trial, and they had better pray to Merlin that they existed. Talking aloud, Walburga said, "If I find out that Sirius speaks the truth and those imbeciles have placed my son in Azkaban without a trial, there will be hell to pay. They will rue the day they even thought to put a Black in Azkaban without first making sure they were guilty." And with that final thought, Walburga finished twisting the pin in her hair, so that it was fixed in a simple, yet elegant knot and met Kreacher in the entrance hall for her traveling robes.

"Kreacher," Walburga said, as she put on her cloak, "if I am more than 30 minutes late for teatime, get started on an early supper. I have some imbeciles to put back in line." And with that, she walked out the door and apparated to the Ministry.

30 minutes later:

Minister Bagnold had been having a pleasant afternoon until she heard what sounded like a banshee screaming down the halls. Poking her head out into the hall to see what was happening, she heard a woman screaming and pointing her finger in Auror Fleetwood's face, "I DON'T CARE IF I NEED AN APPOINTMENT TO SEE THE MINISTER! I DEMAND JUSTICE. MY SON HAS BEEN SITTING IN AZKABAN SINCE NOVEMBER 1ST, WITHOUT A TRIAL HAVING TAKEN PLACE!"

"And I'm telling you, madam, that one does not get sent to Azkaban until after a trial has taken place." Auror Fleetwood said, staying surprisingly calm.

"DON'T TELL ME THAT LIE! I REQUESTED A COPY OF HIS FILE, THERE WERE NO TRIAL TRANSCRIPTS. NO NOTES FROM THE TRIAL. NOTHING BEYOND THE ARREST REPORT!" Walburga screamed back.

The Minister had fully stepped out into the hall by this time and cleared her throat, then asked, "Exactly who is your son, Madam?"

Upon seeing the Minister, Walburga brought her voice down a couple of octaves and said, "My son is Sirius Orion Black, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and I'm here to see that justice is done and that he be given a trial." Everyone listening inhaled in shock at the name.

One onlooker said, "How dare you accuse us of not doing our due diligence, he as much as confessed his guilt there in the street! If he hadn't already had a trial, it would be a waste of time to place him on trial."

A pink, toady-looking onlooker said, "Hem. Hem. Not to mention how he betrayed the Potter family, causing them all to die except for the boy." The delight on her face was a testament of how she really felt about that tragedy.

Walburga narrowed her eyes at them both and said, "You listen to me, you little fools. I have proof in my hand that there was no trial, yet my son and heir was sent to Azkaban anyway. One is not to be sent to Azkaban until after one is proven guilty at trial. My son has had no such trial to prove guilt or innocence; therefore, he should at the very least be placed in a holding cell here at the Ministry until a trial is organized."

The first mentioned onlooker was fuming, with his facing burning red and said, "I was present when he made his confession right after the 12 muggles and Peter Pettigrew were killed in an explosion."

"What is your name?" asked Walburga.

"I am Junior Minister Cornelius Fudge from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes." the red-faced idiot said.

"Well, Junior Minister Fudge, you may have been present to hear his so-called confession, but the aurors should have still done their due diligence and investigated all of the facts. And you are just a little pion with no authority over who should get a trial. Now go." Turning back to Minister Bagnold, Walburga asked, "Have I made myself clear? My son is to be removed from Azkaban and placed in the holding cells to await trial, and I want a trial before Christmas. MAKE. IT. HAPPEN."

Minister Bagnold just stood there speechless for a moment, blinking in confusion, finally she said, "But, surely, if he is already in Azkaban, he has already had his trial and been found guilty."

Walburga's face reddened in righteous anger and she spoke slowly as if speaking to a simpleton. "I don't know how many more times I need to say this to you, before it sinks into your thick skull, but there is no proof he had a trial in his file. There is only his arrest report. So either you sign an order transferring him to a Ministry holding cell to await trial, or I will make your life and the lives of everyone in the Ministry as miserable as mine is. Have I made myself clear?"

"You have no right to come in here to make demands!" Fudge exclaimed.

Walburga paid him no mind and continued to give a hard stare to the Minister, waiting for her to crack. Finally, the Minister said, "I will have the issue investigated."

"You had better do more than have the issue investigated. You had better have him transferred to a holding cell here at the Ministry by noon tomorrow, or there will be hell to pay. Do all the investigating you want to after he is here, ready and waiting for a trial, but you had best get a move on, because I would bet the entire contents of my vaults that this is not just an open and shut case, as you seem to believe it to be."

Then, noticing a water beetle crawling on the wall near the ceiling, Walburga said, "You may need to have maintenance check for insect repellant, whatever wards you have up are clearly not working." Not that Rita Skeeter would have remembered anything she had heard, though. Harry would probably regret having placed that hex on her, if he had known she would have been listening to this conversation, because it would have been a sure fire way for the story to make the Daily Prophet.

Then Walburga pulled at her sleeves, straightening them out and said, "Remember, you have until noon tomorrow. If he has not been transferred by then - well, I'll let it be a surprise." She said with a mischievous smile. Sirius would have been shocked to know where he had inherited his Marauder traits from.

Auror Fleetwood made an attempt to direct her towards the exit, when Walburga said, "Don't worry about me, I found my own way in, I can find my own way out." And then Fudge made as if to step towards her, she said, "Stay out of my way, Fudge, I don't know if your stupidity is catching." The pink toad just glared at her, as she resumed making her way towards the exit to leave the Ministry, having fulfilled her goal of seeing the Minister, then headed back to Grimmauld Place. She had more plans to make.