Author's notes at the end.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was getting rather tired by the blubbering man before him. The portly Minister shifted again in his chair, red faced, tapping the edge of his overlarge desk with short, tubby fingers.
Even Kinsley, normally unperturbed, had exhausted eyes as he watched his employer. The Auror stood straight-backed by the fireplace, tight lipped, having not spoken so far.
"Cornelius-" Dumbledore said again. And, once again, he was interrupted:
"I really – Dumbledore – You-Know-Who?" said Fudge quickly, his fingers increasing in speed. "I – honestly-"
"Now that you prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort-" The aged Headmaster ignored the flinch that passed across Fudge's face, and the slight mumble of, "Is that name really necessary?" "-has returned, I do believe it is high time you take my advice as you should have done a year ago."
A deep scarlet flush appeared on Fudge's lined face. "Who are you to come in here and tell me how to run my own Ministry-?!"
Dumbledore ignored him. "Foremost, the public need to know about the Dementors. As I suggested, the most essential step should have been to remove the Dementors from Azkaban."
Fudge opened his mouth in protest, but Dumbledore's eyes narrowed dangerously and his teeth snapped shut in a way that might had been comical if any part of this situation was remotely funny.
"Considering the resent mass-revolt," continued Dumbledore, "I think it prudent that the public know, or we may have many more occurrences like Harry's this past summer."
"I – Mass-revolt?" Fudge's face lost the beetroot-red blush and began to grow pale. His eyes dropped away from Dumbledore's intent gaze, scanning the room desperately for some kind of aid.
"You cannot hide behind ignorance any longer," said Dumbledore loudly, staring over the rims of his half-moon spectacles at the panicked man. "You should have known the Dementors would not remain loyal to you, just as I told you.
"Lord Voldemort has offered them far more than the Ministry ever has. With all of the Ministry's Dementors, and many of his old supporters returned to him, there is nothing stopping him from regaining the same power he had fourteen years ago.
"I've told you what has happened. I've warned you of what could happen." Dumbledore drew himself to his full height and Fudge, despite himself, seemed to grow smaller under his gaze. "Lord Voldemort has returned."
Fudge mumbled something under his breath before conceding with a small, "Yes – alright."
"Now, on the matter of Sirius Black," Dumbledore said, drawing out a small pocket watch and glancing at the time. "I expect a trial to be scheduled-"
"Trial? A trial?" Fudge spluttered, flabbergasted at the mere suggestion. His voice rose as he continued: "That – that man," he said, pointing his finger at nothing in particular, "is a raving mass murderer. He killed twelve muggles and little Peter Pettigrew, and you expect me to give him a trial?!"
"Yes," replied Dumbledore simply.
"But… that man deserves the Dementors Kiss – his sentence if caught was to be the Dementors Kiss-"
"I don't think that is quite necessary, Cornelius."
Fudge swallowed. "But-"
"If I may, Mr. Fudge?" asked Kingsley, then continued without even an indicator of approval from his employer. "Wouldn't it be a sign of good faith on the Ministry's part to give a trial before a sentence?"
"Black has already had a trial," Fudge snapped. "There is no need for another."
"I think you will find, Cornelius, that there wasn't," Dumbledore told him. "It was a case of inter arma enim silent leges I'm afraid. Many Death Eaters were not tried and sent straight to Azkaban on an admission of confession, or simply because there was too much evidence for them to be trialled in the first place."
"Well," Fudge said again, shifting his weight. His eyes slid over to Kingsley as if expecting some kind of help there. The Auror's face was utterly stoic. "Yes, well, I suppose."
Dumbledore's face stretched out into a small smile, and he said, "Good, good," as he climbed to his feet and walked over to the door. "I'll be awaiting your owl on the matter, Cornelius. But now, I really must be going to see Mr Potter."
.o.O.o.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who had thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either much die at the hand of the other for neither can live with the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"
.o.O.o.
Harry halted in the door way to the Hospital Wing, clinging on to the edge of the doorframe. He surveyed the room blankly, his mind still buzzing from that news that he had received back in the Headmaster's office.
Absentmindedly, Harry reached up to touch his scar, remembering the cold voice in his head and the searing pain, as if every partial of his body wanted to explode. His fingers feel limp, comforted by the knowledge that Sirius had been right: the monster instead his head wasn't him, but Voldemort.
Ron's bed was the closest, and slowly, with almost lethargic movements, Harry wandered towards the chair by his bedside, sitting down like a person who had received a rather nasty shock – which, in all truth he just had.
His best friends' hair was vibrant against the stark white pillow. Ron lay on his side, one hand draped across his chest which rose and fell with ever-familiar snores. By Harry's feet was an empty bucket that still smelled strongly of vomit.
"Are you alright, Harry?" a small voice asked from behind him.
Harry span around and caught a flash of brilliant orange hair and milk white skin. Ginny was perched, rather owl-like, on the end of an empty bed. He noted her ankle, while obviously healed to some extent, was wrapped in pearly-white bandages.
"I think I should be asking you the same question," Harry replied, hardly recognising the sound of his own voice. Perhaps Ginny didn't hear it, or maybe she was simply polite enough to not mention that he sounded like a croaking frog.
"Me? Oh, I'm fine," Ginny said, peering down at her foot and giving it a little wriggle. "Madam Pomfrey fixed me in a trice."
"And the others?"
"Neville's fine apparently. His nose has been returned to its usual size so he doesn't sound so bad anymore." Her doe-brown eyes became softer. "He's sleeping now. I think seeing Bellatrix, after what she did to his parents, did a number on him."
Harry nodded numbly, remembering Neville's shy face in St. Mungo's that Christmas. The gentle way in which he had handled his mother. His grandmother's loud, proud voice under which he had withered.
"Luna? Hermione?"
"Luna's good," Ginny said, and pointed to her friend.
Luna was sitting up on her mattress, long hair draped around her shoulders like a light brown shawl, pooling across her lap. In her hands, she was clutching the latest edition of The Quibbler, reading the magazine upside down and taking no interest in anything else around her.
A small grin appeared on Ginny's face. "She almost brings a sense of normality to the place, doesn't she?"
"Yeah."
Ginny sat back against the rails of the bed, the smile turning into a look of concern. "Madam Pomfrey is with Hermione now, but Professor Lupin said she'll be fine eventually."
Harry sat up a little straighter.
"Lupin was here?"
"Yeah, around twenty minutes ago, with Neville."
A look of desperation must have shown on his face because she asked, sounding equally concerned and intrigued, "Why? What's wrong Harry?"
"No, nothing's wrong. I just – I wanted to know what's going to happen to Sirius."
Ginny made a noise that seemed to come from the back of her throat. She slipped off her bed and came to sit on Ron's, taking his hand carefully between both of her own. "Kingsley's in charge of his case," she said quietly. "I'm sure nothing bad will happen."
"You don't know that," Harry didn't mean to sound accusing but Ginny didn't seem offended. "Anything could happen," he continued, less harsh. "They could send him back to Azkaban… give him the Kiss."
"Dumbledore won't let that happen."
Harry wasn't so sure. Dumbledore was brilliant, yes, but human all the same.
.o.O.o.
As Lupin had predicted, Hermione was fine. She awoke two days after their return to Hogwarts. Harry spent his time between classes sitting between Ron and Hermione's beds in the Hospital Wing.
Ron, who complained more than once – but only behind Madam Pomfrey's back mind, fearing the Witches wrath – that he was simply bored, had created a game whereupon he would make soft clip-clopping noises, skilfully imitating the sounds of centaurs.
Whenever this happened, the prone figure of Umbridge, who lay on a hospital bed as far away from the wing entrance as possible, would jerk out of her otherwise completely still position, looking around wildly and making little squeaking sounds.
On these occasions the grey haired Healer would poke her head around the corner of her office and ask tiredly, "Anything wrong, Professor?" and give Ron a look somewhere between amusement and terrifying coolness.
Harry, along with Ginny and Hermione, both of whom began giggling whenever their ex-Headmistress began flaying madly, found Ron's little stunts funny. But even his best-friend's humour couldn't placate the cold anxiety of not knowing what was happening with Voldemort or Sirius forever.
On the occasions Harry wasn't with his friends, he was either phased out in class or found himself pacing in the boy's dormitory, too restless and worried to sleep.
When he did sleep, his dreams were a spectrum of echoes and violence. Harry dreamt of a hissing voice inside his head, and the slender, cloaked figure with burning scarlet eyes; of Lily Potter's screams which rattled inside his skull like a kettle-drum, and James' cries as he tried to protect his family. The yells of his friends as flashes of curses streaked passed, and the haunting words of Professor Trelawney.
Whenever he woke he had the urge to write to Sirius, and more than once found himself crumpled by the fireplace in the Common Room come morning. With his desire to talk to is godfather came the horrid memories of Voldemort standing over a crumpled Sirius, toying with him, and the ever-growing daily panic of not knowing what was happening in the Ministry.
Reason (and Hermione) told him that if Sirius Black had been given the Dementor's Kiss, it would have been in the Prophet. Harry waited with impatience every morning for Hedwig to arrive, devouring the paper with ferocity like no other.
For a week the only news had been the return of You-Know-Who, the mass revolt of the Dementors and a call for Fudge to be replaced as Minister for Magic.
It had almost been two weeks since Sirius' capture before his name became ink on paper.
Harry had only just reached the door to the Great Hall when he was hailed by the loud cries of Fred and George. He hurried towards the twins, slipping onto the bench next to Ginny and Luna, who looked out of odds in her blue uniform next too all the Gryffindor red.
The twins were pouring over the large newspaper with intent, but looked up when Harry settled.
"What does it say?" Harry asked worriedly.
"They're not going to Kiss him yet," said Ginny from beside him. Harry turned to look at her, and a pink tinge appeared in the sink around her freckles, the way it always did whenever Harry so much as glanced at her in public. She looked down quickly, then tugged the newspaper away from her brothers, ignoring their disgruntled cries.
All but throwing the paper in Harry's face, she continued, "There's going to be a trial."
"Which is the best thing we could hope for right now," George added.
Harry took the paper in both hands and read:
SIRIUS BLACK, CAPURED
By Justin Warrington, Correspondent for the Daily Prophet
Late last night, Kingsley Shacklebolt, forty-one, the lead Auror in the pursuit of Sirius Black, released an official Ministry statement that Black, the infamous first ever escapee from the British Wizarding Prison, Azkaban, had been captured in the Ministry of Magic, being one of the several Death Eaters captured when You-Know-Who was revealed to have returned.
Currently the pressing issue of the fate of Black is being debated. Two years ago, when Black first escaped Azkaban, the British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, said that Black should to be "[Dementor's] Kissed on sight". However, with the Magical community calling for Fudge's replacement, it brings into question whether his opinion should be heeded. [Read more on Fudge on Page Four and Five.]
Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and re-appointed member of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, are both insisting on a trial for Black.
"All Wizards are entitled to the a trial. It is the law," Dumbledore stated when asked for a comment. Bones added, "In 1981, Black wasn't given a trial. Many captured during You-Know-Who's first reign faced a similar fate. The Ministry had a duty to give all prisoners trials, however they chose not to uphold the rights of their citizens. It is against basic human rights that he [Black] shouldn't receive one now."
Though this choice could be considered dangerous and foolhardy, given Black's seeming ability to escape anywhere, the majority of the Wizengamot have agreed with Dumbledore and Bones.
In the time leading up to his trial, Black will be kept into the highest security cell at Azkaban which will be safeguarded by no less than two Auror's at a time.
"We are taking every precaution necessary to make sure Black does not escape before his trial," Bones assured the magical community.
A trial date has yet to be set, although Bones mentioned in passing that the trial would be private. It calls into question who will be called as witness and whether Harry Potter, the famous 'Boy-Who-Lives', will be called to give a testimony given their reason history of encounters.
Shacklebolt further released that Black will be interrogated under "heavy and possibly lethal" doses of Veritaserum during his trial. This was approved by St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries as long as a Black is kept under observation by a qualified Healer during the period of his trial. Black will also be subjected to a form of Legilimency where his memories will be viewed by all members of the Wizengamot.
Harry let the paper drop from his hands with despair.
"But they can't send him back to Azkaban!" he cried, feeling like a log was stuck in his throat. "It's not-"
"We know," Ginny said from beside him. "It's not fair, and it's not right. But things might take a turn for the best – you'll see."
Below the table, out of sight from their friends and her brother's, Harry felt a warm hand slip into his own. He welcomed the warmth of Ginny's touch, as well as the comfort of knowing that he wasn't entirely alone in the world.
Author's Note(s): Dumbledore's phrase "Inter arma enim silent leges" is latin and ruffly translates to "in times of war the law falls silent".
I know Harry and Ginny got together in Half-Blood Prince but i couldn't help myself setting them up because it seemed like such a perfect situation what with her comforting Harry.
Like the previous chapter, some ideas were taken from the book however i didn't copy anything line by line this time. i also cut out the whole conversation between Harry and Dumbledore because that would have literally been the same as from the book excluding Harry's breakdown over Sirius' death, hence the reason i mentioned that it happened by didn't rewrite it... if that makes sense :)
This was not beta read and i'm sorry it's a little ruff along the edges (i'm going on holiday tomorrow so i tried to finish it as quickly as i could). If you do spot any mistakes, please tell me and i'll fix them as soon as i'm able too :)
