Disclaimer- I don't own it. La.
So, I've noticed a recent flux in attention to this story. I'm not sure why; it could be that we just got to the juicy bit, Remus Lupin's newly released biography, or that my story is actually good (psssh, yeah right). This means I have to apologize to a whole new hord of you for what I'm about to say;
I don't enjoy writing this anymore. I don't know why. I really don't. Just that I don't enjoy it. Now, this doesn't mean that I will stop writing it, because I have never left a story incomplete in my life (I have deleted a couple, but only in their early stages) and I don't plan to start now. But, as you can see, I haven't been updating as often, and I suspect the quality isn't up to the earlier standards. That's usually how it goes with me, if I use past experience. I'm sorry; feel free to continue reading, but you have been warned.
"I-I'm sorry, who? Peter Pettigrew?"
It was several hours later, and Harry was sitting in Dumbledore's office, next to Ron, who been wearing an expression of befuddlement the entire time. Harry was currently watching Professor Dumbledore talk to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
Or, if Harry was being honest, watching Professor Dumbledore argue with Cornelius Fudge.
"Yes, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, hardly a sign of impatience showing through, even though the man in question was standing not ten feet away from him, cuffed and surrounded by Aurors. "Peter Pettigrew. He is not dead and he is no hero. He is standing in this room."
"But-" spluttered Fudge. "That...that can't be! Black's in Azkaban for killing him, there are witnesses..."
"The witnesses are wrong," said Dumbledore. "All evidence points to Sirius Black's innocence."
Fudge was practically spitting. "But...but...you're taking this on the evidence of Lupin...someone like him..."
Dumbledore's expression hardened. "The moment he had suspicions he sent for myself and Professor McGonagall, and we witnessed the Animagus transformation. You cannot ask more than him from that."
Fudge sighed. "Yes, yes, I suppose you're right. Where is he now?"
"He's in his office, presumably composing himself. To find Pettigrew like this...it's very difficult for him."
Fudge looked as though he had a retort, but wisely kept it to himself.
"What does this mean for Potter?"
Harry perked up.
"It means," said Dumbledore slowly. "That, when Sirius Black is released from Azkaban, he may have a new place to live."
Harry smiled.
Fudge left, Ron was back in his dorms, Peter Pettigrew had been escorted to Azkaban by the Aurors, and Harry was sitting across from Dumbledore in his office.
"So," said Dumbledore. "Tell me about what happened to your room."
Harry's mouth opened and closed. He had almost forgotten about his ransaked room in the wake of these big events.
"Oh, well...someone searched it. Looking for something."
"Do you know what they were looking for?"
The diary flitted through Harry's mind, but he didn't know if it really qualified as something taken. So he shook his head, knowing deep inside that the diary was exactly the kind of thing Dumbledore would want to know about.
Dumbledore sighed and Harry suddenly felt guilty.
"Well, then, we'll have to keep our eyes our for the culprit, won't we? I'll make sure the Fat Lady is extra watchful. Do you trust your fellow Gryffindors?"
"Oh, yes," said Harry quickly, thinking of his dormmates and feeling certain they would never rob him.
"...Good, good," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "Well, it is late, and you do have classes tomorrow. Good night, Harry!"
"Good night, Professor."
Harry stood up to leave, but hesitated. "Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sirius Black...when do you think he'll get out of Azkaban?"
"It may take several months for all the evidence to come to light and his case be made," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "He should be out in time for summer."
Harry grinned and thanked the headmaster before heading back to his dorm, ransacked room forgotten in light of his godfather.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, was more tired and gray than ever.
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