With less than eighteen hours to go for the hearing, Harry was starting to get nervous.

As he drew nearer to the ballroom, he could hear the soft notes of the piano coming from inside.

No wonder Sirius hadn't heard him come home through the floo.

He paused at the entrance and saw Sirius playing. The man was thoroughly engrossed and didn't seem to notice Harry standing at the entrance.

Only last week Harry had discovered this particular talent his guardian possessed. He'd come back one evening from Ron's to find Sirius seated at the piano in the manor's ballroom.

Sirius had told him it calmed him.

Harry didn't want to disturb him. He stood there and watched as the man's fingertips danced across the keys, every touch creating a beautiful sound that resonated in the large empty room.

As he listened to the sound, he felt himself relax and the knot in his chest loosened slightly.

Harry had tried his hand at the piano but had discovered that he wasn't very good at it.

It was only when Sirius was finished that Harry went inside.

His godfather looked up at him and smiled softly. "You're back early."

Harry shrugged with feigned casualness. "I wanted to come back home." I'm scared.

The man saw right through him.

Sirius scooted to make room for Harry on the bench. "C'mere, kiddo."

Harry sat down next to the man, tucking one leg up. He brought his finger down on a key and the soft note echoed across the room. He did it a few more times, tapping different keys.

Sirius allowed him time to talk and for that, he was grateful.

He wanted to tell the man exactly what was going on inside his head. He wasn't just nervous, he was bloody terrified for the trial.

That morning after breakfast, he had headed over to Ron's and wasn't supposed to be back until tea. But even Quidditch with the Weasleys had failed to distract him.

He tried to formulate the words so that he could convey them to Sirius without sounding pathetic.

He finally gave up. "I'm scared."

The man made a sound to indicate that he was listening and smoothed a hand over his godson's hair, gently entangling his fingers in the thick, unruly mop. Harry leaned into his hand and relaxed some more.

Harry had been denied the basic human need for affection all these years. He practically craved it now.

It had taken the boy a while to initiate a hug without any insecurity or embarrassment. Once Harry had realised that his godfather had no qualms about his behaviour, he'd all but turned into a cuddle-monster.

"Which part?" Sirius asked, running his fingers through Harry's hair.

He shuffled closer to Sirius.

"He'll be there tomorrow and I'm... I tried not to be afraid but I can't."

Sirius caught the frustration in Harry's words and moved the hand from the boy's head to gently squeeze the back of his neck. "It's alright to be afraid, pup."

"It's not."

"Yes it is," Sirius insisted. "It's okay to show that you're afraid, pup. No one will think any less of you." Words which no one had ever told Sirius when he was a child himself.

He remembered his mother's words, her voice icy and harsh: Feelings and emotions are liabilities, Sirius. They make you weak and vulnerable and you must never be weak.

He mentally shook himself and focussed on the boy next to him. He dropped a kiss on the messy black locks before continuing.

"Vernon can't touch you anymore, love."

"What if I'm not able to talk? What if I falter or make a fool of myself? I'm an idiot, Sirius," Harry muttered. How was it that he could stand up to Voldemort but was terrified of his very muggle uncle?

Sirius paused his ministrations to tap Harry gently on the back of his head. "Don't talk like that, Harry James," he scolded without heat.

"Pup, you're not an idiot. You will do fine tomorrow. You're forgetting that you won't be alone. I'll be there. No one will rush you tomorrow. You will be allowed to take your time, kiddo. It will all turn out fine."

Initially, Remus was supposed to come as well but the full moon this time had taken a toll on him and he hadn't been feeling all that great.

Sirius was well aware that these two weeks hadn't been easy at all for Harry. Talking to their lawyer had been stressful enough, not to mention the fact that he would have to recount all incidents of abuse that had occurred at the Dursley residence in court where numerous eyes would be on him. It was harder still as the court wasn't aware of the existence of the Wizarding World.

Their lawyer herself had only been informed about Sirius' wrongful imprisonment and how Harry had been treated whilst under the care of his relatives.

Amelia has done an excellent job ensuring that there was no mention of the word 'magic' in the whole procedure. It was amazing what a mild Confundus could achieve.

"How can you be so sure? What if they take me away? What if the court decides that I should go back and live with my uncle?"

Sirius felt Harry shudder against him and his heart went out to the boy.

"Pup, no one's going to send you back to the muggles."

"I won't go back, Sirius. I won't."

Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder reassuringly. "You won't have to, love. I promise."

"Can you play some more?" Harry requested. He enjoyed listening to the soothing melodies.

Turns out Sirius wasn't the only one who was calmed by the piano.

Like godfather like godson.

"Of course."

Harry was sure he was going to throw up. He felt the anxiety building up inside him. Despite being calmed last night from Sirius' reassurances, the nervousness had returned tenfold that morning.

Bacon and sausages, which were his two favourite breakfast items, now looked as appetising as Hagrid's rock cakes. He played with his food, determinedly ignoring Sirius' concerned and watchful eyes.

After much coaxing on his godfather's part, he managed to eat a single sausage and down a glass of milk.

The muggle suit that he had to wear felt extremely uncomfortable and he wanted nothing more than to take it off and trade it for a pair of sweatpants and T-shirt. He fidgeted with his tie until Sirius pried his fingers away from the offending piece of cloth.

"It's only for a little while. It will be over sooner than you imagine."

Far too soon for Harry's liking, it was time to leave.

You can do this, Potter.

The last two weeks had been an absolute nightmare for Vernon Dursley and his family.

Local law enforcement had torn his house and office apart, searching for any and every shred of evidence that could be used against him in court.

Thanks to the additional embezzlement charges, every section of his life had been examined with a fine tooth comb: his daily dealings with people, transactions with regular clients, his finances and even his phone calls and mail he had exchanged in the last six months.

After proof of Vernon's embezzlement was uncovered, he had been sacked on the spot.

Because of the child abuse charges against him, Dudley's headmistress has seen it unfit to let the Dursley boy remain at her school. So, until the investigation against Vernon was closed, Dudley had been suspended.

The neighbours had obviously noticed the cops frequenting Number Four and wanted nothing to do with the Dursley family.

Now, he sat in the courtroom, next to his wife, sweating profusely. Their son was currently in the care of their neighbour, Mrs. Figg.

He risked a glance at that freak of a nephew who was sitting next to that terrifying godfather of his.

All too soon, the court was in session.

Harry was barely listening when the lawyer rattled off the charges against his uncle. He was mentally preparing himself for when he'd be called to the stand.

Their lawyer had briefed him and he'd also given his testament under oath privately.

His palms were sweaty and he rubbed them against his trousers, bouncing his leg continuously.

All thought fled his mind when he heard the next words: "We would like to call Vernon Dursley to the stand."

Harry stiffened as he watched his uncle get up and move to the stand.

"Mr. Dursley, is it correct that you were the legal guardian of Harry James Potter until recently?"

"Yes."

"Could you describe your relationship with your nephew?"

Vernon swallowed before he spoke. "The f-Harry was left on my doorstep when he was a year old. My wife and I took him in. We let him sleep under our roof, gave him food and treated him as best we could."

"Mr. Dursley, please describe your relationship with him. Would you consider yourself a suitable guardian for Mr. Potter?"

"Yes."

"Then how would you explain the charges?"

Vernon gulped audibly. "The boy caused trouble at the best of times. I believe it was my right as his guardian to discipline him as I see fit."

"Did you physically discipline him?" The lawyer hid her distaste for the fat man admirably well.

"There were times where it was necessary. I don't believe I... I overstepped. There were times when he misbehaved and needed to learn to toe the line."

"I see. Is that why Mr. Potter had his living quarters inside the cupboard underneath the stairs in your house? We have found evidence that a child used to stay in there. An old blanket, few broken toys and a lumpy mattress."

"The boy never lived inside that cupboard. We gave him a room right next to our Dudley! My nephew would shut himself inside that cupboard every time he threw a tantrum!" Vernon lied.

"Perjury alone carries a sentence of at least five years, Mr. Dursley. Chose your words carefully. We're talking about an innocent child here. How did you physically discipline Mr. Potter?"

"I may have spanked the boy when he deserved it." Vernon replied haughtily.

"Mr. Potter and his godfather, Mr. Black are suing you for first degree child abuse. Mr. Potter was very clear in his testament. You and your wife repeatedly harmed him—physically and emotionally—, starved him and belittled him. Denial will only get you a longer sentence. So, I ask again, did you ever use physically and emotionally abuse your nephew?"

The silence in the courtroom was deafening.

A lot flashed in Vernon's mind in those few short seconds.

His belt which had become a constant in the freak's life. He hadn't hesitated all those years when it came to pulling off his belt to teach his nephew some manners. Those welts across the boy's backside had never moved him. On numerous occasions, he'd even caned the brat and the criss-crossed stripes of red running up and down his back didn't affect him.

Vernon Dursley had been an utter monster to Harry Potter.

He'd slapped him, yanked his hair until the boy's scalp was sore, beaten him and ignored his nephew's begging, twisted his ears until it almost felt like they would tear off. He had picked the boy up by his arm and thrown him into his cupboard or out of the house, he'd even burned the boy's hand over the stove when he'd been in a particularly bad mood.

He hadn't hesitated to scream at the boy for the smallest of infarctions, calling him all sorts of hurtful names. He had told the freak very often that he was unlovable and didn't deserve to be loved.

None of it have ever bothered him until this day, when he stood in the courtroom.

"Mr. Dursley? Answer the question."

"Yes. Yes, I beat that wretched freak. I'm not sorry."

There it was. A confession before all those who were present.

Sirius saw red the moment Vernon had called Harry that despicable word. He exercised an inordinate amount of restraint to stop himself from beating that bastard bloody in the middle of the courtroom.

How dare he talk about Harry that way?

It was only Harry's hand gripping his like a lifeline that made him stay in his seat. He looked down at his godson who had tensed up during Vernon's rant.

"You're okay, pup," he said, making sure to keep his voice low and soothing.

Everyone wore equally horrified expressions on their faces. The judge was the first to regain composure. "Very well, Mr. Dursley. You may return to your seat."

Next up was Petunia Dursley.

"Mrs. Dursley, were you aware that your husband was physically and emotionally abusing your nephew?"

Petunia's hands were gripping the railing before her and her eyes were averted. "Yes." The word was little above a whisper but everyone heard it.

"And did you ever attempt to stop your husband?"

Her eyes strayed towards her husband who was red in the face. She shook her head ever so slightly.

"A verbal answer if you will, Mrs. Dursley."

"No."

"And why is that?"

There was no answer.

"Did you ever physically and emotionally harm Mr. Potter?"

Petunia's mind recalled the innumerable times she'd slapped the boy harshly across the face, hit him with her pan and encouraged her son and husband to treat the freak the way he deserved.

"Yes."

The lawyer asked Petunia to return to her seat.

It was his turn. Any minute now.

"We'd like to call Mr. Harry Potter to the stand."

Harry say frozen on his seat, unable to move. Giving his testament in a closed room before a single person had been hard enough. It was going to be much harder to look into his relatives' faces and talk about just how much they'd made his life a living hell.

He couldn't do it.

His hands began to shiver and his mouth went dry.

"Harry."

His name snapped him out of his trance. "Sirius, I'm scared," he whispered.

"Pup, you can do it. No one's going to touch you. No one will hurt you ever again, kid."

He looked at his godfather, searching for any sign of lies but all he found was warmth and reassurance.

He could do it.

Determination replaced his fear, not completely but considerably. He turned to look at Sirius who's mouth quirked upward into that gentle smile which always made Harry feel safe. His godfather ruffled his hair.

"Go on, pup."

Harry stood up and made his way to the stand.

He looked at Sirius who offered his trademark wink. You've got this, kid.

"Mr. Potter, would you describe your life with your Aunt and Uncle?"

Harry stared at his relatives who glared back at him hatefully. In their eyes, he saw the message they'd given him repeatedly over the past decade.

You're a freak, boy.

No one cares about you.

You would have been better off dead with your worthless parents.

You're unlovable. Who would care about you?

Harry took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the railing before he spoke.

"I lived inside a cupboard until my eleventh birthday." Harry was taken aback by how sure his voice sounded.

"My aunt and uncle disliked me and made it clear. By the time... by the time I turned four, the chores began. I cleaned the house, cooked, washed the clothes and dishes and tended the garden before I knew how to read."

"I didn't tell anyone because I was afraid and–" he glanced at Sirius hesitantly. He he hadn't even told his godfather the next part. "I felt like I deserved it."

He looked away from Sirius as soon as the words left his mouth, not wanting to see the expression on his godfather's face.

"My uncle beat me, almost regularly and... and I was helpless against him. My aunt did nothing to stop him and sometimes... sometimes she joined in. That's how it always was and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

The silence was thick in the courtroom. Every pair of eyes were trained on Harry and now that he'd finished speaking, the confidence was gone, leaving him self conscious under all their gazes.

His aunt and uncle were stunned. They had never expected him to ever speak out against them. Vernon's face was red, from anger or humiliation, Harry wasn't sure. Petunia was white as a sheet, terrified of what the verdict would be.

"Return to your seat, Mr. Potter."

Feeling all too relieved, Harry got off the stand and back to his place next to Sirius.

"You okay there, kiddo?"

Harry nodded. "I was afraid at first. But then when I started to talk, it became easier." He felt better now that he had unburdened himself. All those secrets that he'd been shouldering for a decade was not his to bear anymore.

The judge struck her gavel and spoke: "The court is adjourned for lunch."

One hour for the verdict.

Harry stepped out of the cubicle in the men's restroom and froze when he saw Vernon washing his hands at the wash basin.

Vernon also noticed him at that exact same moment and he whirled around.

"You!"

His face was rapidly turning purple, as it often did when he started to get enraged. Normally, that face never boded well for Harry as it always ended with him hurt—physically and emotionally—, hungry or both.

But today was different. His uncle couldn't lay a finger on him in here, although they were alone.

"After everything my wife and I have done for you, you dare humiliate us this way? We should have never taken you into our home!"

"You beat me. I begged you to stop, to have mercy but you never listened. I never did anything wrong to you or your family but you hated me, just because I'm different." Harry kept his voice even, determined to not flinch or tremble.

Although he knew that Vernon wouldn't hurt him now, years of abuse made him tense and stiff in the man's presence.

Vernon shot him a loathsome look. "Different? You aren't different, boy! You're a filthy, bloody freak! Always will be."

This time, Harry wasn't so successful. He flinched violently and balled his hands. "I'm not," he states forcefully. "I am not a freak. My godfather taught me that."

Sirius had indeed.

The first time Harry had called himself that, Sirius had turned all serious and told him very clearly that he was never to speak like that again. That he wasn't a freak, not one bit.

His godfather's repeated reassurances over the past few days had convinced him that every belittling comment the Dursleys had thrown at him was nothing but a load of bull.

"Yes you go and hide behind that godfather of yours. See how long he puts up with you before kicking you out."

"You're wrong, Uncle Vernon. He's not going to do that. You know why? Because he cares for me. That's something you never did."

Harry wasn't sure where this boldness was coming from, but he wasn't complaining.

Vernon's face turned purple and normally, that face ended with a bruised and hurt Harry. But not today. "I see you've become quite insolent, living with that godfather of yours."

Harry didn't say anything.

"What? Nothing to say?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't need to. I don't have to answer to you, not anymore. After today, I'll never see you again. I am sorry you did what you did. Goodbye, Uncle Vernon."

Harry turned on his heel and walked out of the restroom, leaving a thoroughly defeated, angry man behind.

When Harry went back outside, he saw Sirius standing in the corridor and talking to their lawyer.

The man excused himself when he noticed Harry approaching him. "There you are. We need to g—"

He was cut off when he suddenly found his arms full with one Harry Potter. "What's this for?" He asked, sounding confused but pleased nonetheless.

"No reason," Harry replied, turning a little red.

The man rolled his eyes and ruffled Harry's hair. "You're too cute for your own good, kid." His voice was fond. "Come on now, we've got to get back inside."

"Vernon Dursley, you have been proven guilty of first degree child abuse. You shall serve a sentence of twenty years for your crimes. In addition to that, you will be fined ten thousand pounds."

The man's face was white as a sheet, the verdict ringing in his ears.

"Petunia Dursley, you have been proven guilty of second degree child abuse. You shall serve a sentence of fifteen years for your crimes."

"As for your son, he will be placed in the care of Marge Dursley once a background check has been completed. Should Ms. Dursley fail to qualify, your son will be placed in the care of the State."

The gavel was struck and their fates were sealed.

Harry watched as his aunt and uncle were escorted outside and he felt relief wash over him, now that the whole ordeal was finally over.

He never had to see them ever again.

Vernon laid on the bunk in his cell, facing the wall, unable to fall asleep on the hard surface. He'd been trying to find a comfortable position to sleep but had been unsuccessful.

The bed opposite his was empty as he thankfully didn't have a cellmate (yet).

He still couldn't believe he was in prison.

When the guard had led him to his cell, he noticed that it wasn't more than a 10' x 8' rectangle.

The bitter irony.

All these years, he'd forced his nephew to stay inside that blasted cupboard and now he was the one who'd be spending the next several years in a matchbox.

"Can't sleep?"

Vernon bolted upright and whirled around.

From the dim light in the corridor, he could make out a man's outline, sitting on the opposite bed. He didn't have to see the person's face to identify the intruder. He'd know that voice anywhere now.

"Don't bother screaming. No one will hear you. Besides, I'm just here to check on you. Settling in alright, Vernon?"

"How did you get in here?" He whispered, cold fear already seeping into his veins.

"Magic. Duh. I must say, your new quarters are far more cozy than you deserve. A bit tight but not very prison-like. Are all muggle prisons this comfy?"

"Did you just come here to taunt me, Black?" Vernon snapped, backing up against the wall.

"Obviously. You made your greatest mistake when you touched my godson. What did you think I'd do to you?"

The malicious mirth in his tone was gone now, replaced by a cold anger.

"I just wanted to tell you that I've made good on the promise I made you that day."

I'll ruin you. Utterly and thoroughly.

"You better get comfortable in here, Vernon. It's going to be a long twenty years. Goodnight."

There was a crack and the man was gone.

Sirius returned home by around ten o'clock and found Harry curled up on the sofa, asleep. Adorable.

Remus was sitting in an armchair, reading. He looked a little better, less pale than the previous day. The werewolf had come over for dinner and Sirius had asked him to stay until he finished some business with a certain muggle.

"When did he fall asleep?"

"About ten minutes. Poor lad was worn out from the day's events I suppose."

Sirius ran a hand through the boy's hair and hummed in agreement.

"I'll head upstairs and put this one to bed," Sirius said. "I promised to take him to the beach tomorrow. I've got a decade worth of spoiling to make up for."

He looked at Remus who was smirking at him at him a little too smugly? "What?"

"Nothing," the werewolf replied. "Fatherhood's a good look on you, Padfoot. Night."

Sirius rolled his eyes and said goodnight to the other man who then flooed back to his house.

He bent down and scooped the boy into his arms and head for the stairs. Harry didn't make a sound. He was asleep like a baby.

So maybe Sirius was a big softie when it came to Harry. He found that he was perfectly okay with that.

Harry was his pup after all.

And that's a wrap, people.

I sincerely hope the last chapter was to your liking. It took me a while to write but I'm glad you guys were so incredibly patient.

So, Vernon and Petunia finally got their dues, Sirius is a free and sexy BAMF and Harry has his godfather looking out for him.

Don't forget to review. I'm watching you, Potterheads.