A gust of wind picked up through a normal looking side street. Against the backdrop of an imposing stone building, a blue box began to materialise, phasing into existence as if it had always been there. After a few moments of ensuing quiet, Matthew poked his head out of the doors and led Harry onto the street. His walking stick thumped rhythmically against the pavement. Harry was looking around, taking in the new surroundings. He couldn't quite get over the capabilities of the Tardis, even after years of experiencing the most wondrous of things. He was also looking nervously at the several other people walking up and down the street, most of them in crisp business attire (though one person was skidding through pedestrians on roller skates whilst a speaker blared garish music).

Harry, having stopped to watch that odd behaviour, struggled to keep up with his friend, who was confidently striding away with his long coat flapping dramatically behind him. "Why don't they notice?"

Matthew craned his neck to look at him. "Pardon?"

"A giant police box just appeared out of thin air and no one did as much as bat an eyelid," Harry expanded. "Surely people would have seen it. Aren't you…I don't know…risking exposing magic to the Muggle community?"

"If that was the case, it would have happened already." It didn't seem to quell Harry's concerns. "It's something called a perception spell. A Muggle will see the Tardis and you'd automatically assume that they'd have questions. Of course they would. Like you said, it's a box that hasn't been on the streets of London for decades. But the charm discreetly alters their thoughts. They still see the Tardis but the spell makes them think it's nothing important. Or they'll suddenly find something more interesting to think about. Understandably, the spell only goes so far. I couldn't land her in someone's front room and expect them not to react. That really was an awkward interaction the last time that happened."

Matthew seemed to enjoy the look of puzzlement on Harry's face as he tried to figure out whether all of the statement was true or whether he was getting his leg pulled. "Think of it like the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Without a little magical distraction, Muggles would be seeing children running into a wall every September."

"I've always wondered how that works," Harry idly commented, still walking quickly to maintain the same pace as the other boy. Did he ever slow down?

"Wizards are very sneaky when it comes to stuff like that. They really don't want Muggles knowing about them. Obviously, I don't have the same level of distrust of that community…but the same spells do make getting around much easier. Imagine if I had to find a secluded spot every time I wanted to land the Tardis! It would take me literally five seconds longer, and that's time I don't have." He was smirking. Harry smiled at him. It was good to have returned to the natural way they were used to speaking. "Of course, I could always turn her invisible and then we wouldn't even have to think about that problem."

"You can do that?"

"I'm slightly insulted that you have to ask. The only issue with that solution is that people tend to walk into her. How are you supposed to explain that, hmm? And, in all honesty, I tried it once and I couldn't find her for a week."

Harry watched his friend shudder at the memory, before he once again tried to place where they were. It didn't look particularly magical. He supposed that not every wizarding community could look like Hogsmeade. They had to blend into the surroundings somehow. Although he'd lived in London all his life, it was very rare for him to be actually travelling into the heart of the capital. Whenever the Dursleys had gone on a trip, for shopping or for meals, Harry had been left behind, usually under the care of the elderly Mrs Figg down the road. So it was a nice feeling to have the freedom to explore, even if the circumstances that had brought them there were rather serious.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"The Ministry of Magic, obviously. We're just using the public entrance." He came to a stop in front of a narrow phone booth, its red paint slightly chipped away in places. "Come on…get inside."

Harry looked through the glass, unsure as to what was being asked of him. "Is it bigger on the inside like the Tardis?" It looked like it was going to be a tight squeeze if they were both going in at the same time.

"Sadly not. But you're not shy, are you? Afraid of giving me a cuddle?" Matthew was messing with him, Harry could tell. Goading him into doing as instructed.

They both stepped into the booth, their shoulders pressed flush against one another. Harry was just grateful that his face wasn't being squished against the glass. Mainly because it looked dirtier than he would have liked. Matthew pulled down a lever and the floor underneath them shuddered. Harry's eyes grew wide as the scene before them, the street with all the people and the guy on roller skates, began to disappear from view as they descended below the pavement. It was dark for only a few moments, but it still made the contrast as they made their way into a lavish (and brightly lit) atrium rather painful. The booth eventually came to a stop, the door automatically swung open, and the both of them struggled to get out as they moved at the same moment, before Matthew somehow managed to prod him with his cane and shove him out of the way. Harry did well to stay on his feet, though it was touch and go for a few seconds.

He wasn't too bothered with getting his own back, too interested he was in their new surroundings. The Ministry of Magic was a gaudy affair. Sleek, black tiles were the prominent feature, gold inlays enhancing their appearance. Statues stood tall and mighty, impressive feats of art and construction. Yet the people inside barely gave them a second glance, seemingly bored of their presence with how often they came to work. Harry never wanted to reach a point in his life where he stopped marvelling at magic. Paper planes whizzed overhead, and he kept ducking out of the way in reflex, though they were several feet overhead. Past the statues, people were emerging from roaring fires as if stepping through doorways, everyone heading towards where it seemed like buildings had been constructed into the black walls. Workers milled about in the windows high above, and everyone appeared so utterly devoid of fascination. As gorgeous as it might have been, Harry found himself not wanting to be there regularly, in case he turned into them.

"Come on," Matthew chimed behind him, not interested in the decor as Harry. It probably didn't have the same magnificence when you had a Tardis. "Quick security check and then we'll be home and dry."

He led Harry over to a small station that was relatively busy. A bored-looking man sat on a chair, wearing an unattractive grey uniform and a small black hat. Harry watched as one woman in front of them went through, leaving him next in line.

"Wand," the guard drawled, not even looking at Harry, who dutifully did as instructed and handed it over. "Name."

"Um…Harry James Potter."

A green light went off, just as the man's eyes flashed with recognition. He was now most definitely looking at Harry, who wasn't particularly liking the adoration staring back at him. Thankfully, Matthew was on hand to keep things moving.

"Yes, I know, isn't it just marvellous? It's him . But he'll be doing autographs on the way out so if you can give him his wand back…that's it…thank you. I'm sure Harry will put in a good word for you with the higher-ups for being so helpful." Matthew copied Harry's actions, earning himself entry by the dumbstruck worker, and then they were properly inside. Lifts were in one corner, more fireplaces in another. Someone was selling copies of the Daily Prophet from a little stand, and there was a sandwich shop for a quick bite to eat. The chef didn't look like he'd washed his hands in a while.

"I never get used to that," Harry noted, as Matthew guided him with a gentle hand on his back. They were having to weave through a bustling surge of people and, after the last interaction, Harry was hoping to keep his presence on the down low. He considered putting a hand over the scar on his forehead, before realising that would likely bring more attraction. "People looking at me like I'm some sort of saviour."

"Well, how many times have you beaten… him …now?" It was probably best not to use Voldemort's name in such a public space. It'd definitely cause a scene. "If you don't want to be a saviour, you're going to have to stop saving everyone. I don't know what else to tell you."

Harry rolled his eyes, glancing back at the security check that was now obscured by the surrounding masses. "What does it see with your wand?"

"I beg your pardon?" It was quite a sudden change in topic.

"Just then…it came up with what type of wand mine was on the screen…you know…eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather core. Your wand went through the same check but…it's not a real wand, right? It's a construct of your magic."

Matthew pouted. "You know…I've never even thought about that. Hopefully it just tells them exactly what they want to know. Dumbledore's the one who would have registered my details, all of them fake, of course. I wonder what he chose. It worked anyway. Otherwise I'm about to get roughly a dozen sweaty security officers tackling me to the ground. And, frankly, that's only a weekend activity." He noticed Harry gawking at him. "I am joking. I do do that sometimes, you know? To put you at ease."

"How do you know I'm feeling uneasy?" Had he given something away?

"Well, I just presumed. The Ministry can be a daunting place. I've only been here once before, and that was before Hogwarts. Let's just say I wouldn't want to work here. And there's a reason why you're here, after all. It isn't just an idle visit. We're going to have to be on top form if we want to help Sirius get the justice he deserves."

"I thought it was like a…done thing. Are you saying that there's a chance he won't win the trial?"

"I'm just making it clear that the people conducting the trial will focus on everything. This has the potential to be a massive embarrassment for the Ministry, and Fudge. Locking away an innocent man, especially when the prison in question is Azkaban…well, approval ratings aren't going to like the outcome. We're the witnesses to what happened. You have to be prepared for difficult questions, most of which will be designed to provoke an emotional response out of you."

"I won't get emotional. I'll just say the facts. Once they look at our memories, won't it be clear?"

"Hopefully. But memories can be doctored by skilled wizards, and we have Dumbledore on our side, one man who could do that if he so wished."

"Surely they won't suspect him of doing that!"

Matthew shrugged. "Like I said, they want to avoid a scandal. This is dredging up a past they thought they'd moved on from. Fudge hasn't had to contend with fighting You-Know-Who like we have during our school years. He wants every notion of him locked away. He thought he'd managed that, and now this has come to light. I'm looking forward to seeing just how purple his face will be at the spectacle."

"You…you think Sirius will win though, right?" Harry needed to hear a more positive outlook. He needed to believe that living with his godfather wouldn't be taken away from him.

The other boy moved his hand to Harry's shoulders. "I have no doubt. Because we haven't failed at anything before, have we? And speaking of never failing a single thing…"

"Harry!"

Hermione was standing there, waving at them frantically, in what looked like a strange assortment of people. Professor Dumbledore, resplendent in his usual absurd clothes, was by her side, as was Professor Lupin. The latter was looking much healthier than the last time Harry had seen him. Most of the characteristic warmth had returned to his face, which was a good sign. Hermione reduced the distance between them, running over to give each of them a hug, finishing with Matthew.

Now, Harry wasn't one to strictly get enjoyment out of other people's awkward encounters but, after the conversation he'd just had with Matthew, he couldn't help but notice that his friend was almost shy. Or, at least, what passed for shy with Matthew. His body had visibly gone rigid for a split second when Hermione had embraced him, something she appeared to pick up on. And, when they parted, there was a brief pause where they were still holding one another's arms, still looking at each other without saying anything. Matthew just about managed to put a smile on her face to convince her that nothing was wrong. Harry wasn't as successful at hiding his chirp of laughter, earning him a glare from his latest taxi service.

"It's so good to see you both. When Professor Dumbledore told me that Matthew was picking you up, Harry, I have to say that I was a bit worried about what would happen," she admitted once they'd finally unentangled themselves. "With the way things were left off between us. And we haven't exactly been talking a lot over the summer. I know it's only been like a week and I was obviously overthinking things as usual but…"

Matthew put a hand on her shoulder to make her stop spiralling. "Things are fine, Hermione. We're both still alive. We didn't beat each other up. We got here in one piece."

"I think we've reached an understanding," Harry added. "On the way here, we talked about everything. We needed that."

Hermione's smile was even more brilliant than when she'd spotted them through the crowd. "Really? You don't know how happy that's made me! I don't think I could go through more weeks at Hogwarts with you two at loggerheads."

"I know you're surprised that we actually managed to accomplish something without your guidance. Although that doesn't mean we want to do it frequently."

Hermione smirked. "Is there anything you want to clue me in on then?"

It was a perfectly innocent question. The boys knew that she meant their conversation about Matthew's past and their repaired friendship, but it was all too easy to think about the other topic they'd discussed. Harry bit his lip, Matthew was looking anywhere but Hermione, whilst she just looked between them, growing gradually more confused by their odd behaviour. She put her hands on her hips, knowing that something was up, as if they had some joke going on that she wasn't included in.

"Nothing that needs discussing now," Matthew all but squeaked, waving a flippant hand. "Not anything important. You can barely hear anything over this crowd anyway, can't you? Isn't that right, Harry?"

Harry was finding it particularly hilarious how the boy who was typically so assured of himself could be reduced to a bumbling wreck just because of a girl. But, when that girl was Hermione, it started to make a lot of sense. "Right. Yeah. Got other stuff to think about as well. We've got Sirius to consider first. And you haven't even told us what you've been up to!"

She didn't seem convinced, but she very rarely was without hard evidence. "Hmm. I will want an explanation at some point. You both are being weird, and that doesn't normally end well for me." She was pointing a stern finger at them.

"When have we ever been normal?"

"You have a point there," she allowed, laughing at their injured expressions. "As for what I've been up to…not a great deal. After their trip to Hogsmeade, my parents have become even more interested in this side of my life. Obviously, they don't understand most of it but they want to learn. Most of our time has been taken up with me recounting stories from our years at Hogwarts. The innocuous ones, of course. No three-headed dogs or giant snakes."

"But that's a good thing, right?" Matthew asked. "That they're wanting to be involved?"

Hermione nodded her head. "For ages I've been under the impression that choosing this life would mean I eventually have to leave them behind, or at least drift away. I was sure that the relationship we have would be damaged but I'm starting to realise that maybe it'll just evolve instead. If they want to know about magic, if they're no longer scared of that unknown, then I'm really not going to complain."

"But…?" Matthew had always been able to read her like one of his favourite books. He was currently picking up on the slight worry lines that had formed on her forehead.

"But, the more they know, the more I can't hide from them. It's only a matter of time before they find out about all the stuff we've managed to get into. And I'm never going to wish those things hadn't happened, but they're not the sort of things I want my parents knowing. What will they think? Last year, we spent most of our time worried about a mass murderer, only to uncover a twelve year scandal that proved that man was innocent. It isn't exactly the stuff teenagers should be dealing with. I had to moderate the truth for them to drop me off in London for this, saying that I was mainly supporting you, Harry. As much as they're growing accustomed to the wizarding world, and they've made so much more progress on that front than I would ever have imagined, there's still the chance that curiosity could morph into fear and they'll want to take me away."

"Then they won't know. Simple. Kids get into all sorts of trouble that their parents don't know about."

"This is a bit more serious than taking a chocolate bar from a shop without paying. Which I don't condone either." She looked around the place, as if she were going to be put on trial herself for the comment.

"I'm getting worried that you're gearing up to tell us that you don't want to spend time with us anymore because we're always getting you into serious trouble." Harry couldn't imagine much worse.

Hermione gave him a look. "I don't think it's ever going to come to that."

"I did not like the 'think' in that sentence," Matthew interrupted.

"I know it won't come to that. I just want the perfect world where my parents embrace my magic but also understand that it comes with risks."

"The perfect world doesn't exist, Hermione." Harry knew that all too well. "If it was, Sirius wouldn't have been locked away for so long. But what his case proves is that things tend to work out for the best…eventually. That's what we have to hope for anyway. Your parents love you. Don't underestimate what that'll make them tolerate."

"Speaking of Mister Black…" That was Dumbledore, looming over them politely, having done his best to give the children the time they needed for a little reunion. But time was always pressing. "We have the matter of his trial to be attending to shortly."

"It's good to see you, headmaster," Harry said. Only a week had passed but it was always a reassuring presence to have the old man with them. He exuded a sense of calm wherever he went, no matter the situation. Harry was trying to figure out how concerned the professor actually was but, as ever, his face was an impenetrable mask.

Dumbledore smiled down warmly at him. "And you, Harry. I'm relieved to see that your…transportation worked according to plan."

"If that's a comment about how unreliable the Tardis is then…you're probably right to have been worried," Matthew allowed, scratching the back of his neck in acceptance. "With her, it's more about the fun of the journey rather than the destination. Normally because the destination isn't the right one."

Harry laughed at his friend. He was starting to feel nervous about what faced him, so it was good to have these relaxing auras around him. "Is that why the Ministry is so busy today, professor? Because of the trial? Do people get to watch it?"

"There is a small section in the auditorium for a select number of the public, yes," Dumbledore told him.

"That's where I'll be," Lupin said, giving them another smile. The other professor still looked a little awkward around them, likely because he had been trying to eat them the last time he'd seen them all together. That was always going to be a sore point.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? Matthew said that they'd be using us as witnesses to support Sirius' claims. I fully expected you to be in the same boat. You're the one who knows him the best, the one who can account for what happened all those years ago. We don't have that perspective." He was growing even more worried now, with this further pressure being added to him.

"I would have very much liked to have been a part of the trial. But, because of my…affliction…the rules state that I'm inherently an unreliable witness. The Ministry has strict guidelines on the matter. They're of the firm belief that my condition will have an impact on my perception of reality, regardless of the fact of whether I'd taken my potions. When I tried to appeal that decision, they came back with the issue that I'm far too close a friend to Sirius to be useful for the jury, though I know that's just a polite excuse they came up with."

"That's absolutely horrible," Hermione fumed, despising the injustice of it all. She dreaded to think how many people could have been saved from the wrong verdict if the Ministry hadn't ignored the appeals from other werewolves in the past. It was a solemn reminder that the magical world was far from perfect.

"It's the way it's been for centuries, sadly."

"That's the excuse people always make when they don't want to change something that suits them but harms others," Matthew pointed out. "It's the easy option." He glanced over at Harry. "Now you can see why I don't want the Ministry knowing about me. Because, if they did, there'd be no chance that I'd be able to support Sirius today."

"It's something that I've tried campaigning against for many years," Dumbledore said forlornly. "But my power stretches only far. There is the misconception that werewolves are monsters. Although some have embraced that identity, we all know that that isn't the case for all of them. It's a difficult nuance for society to understand, especially since wizards have learnt to avoid werewolves as best as they can. There's never been an opportunity for a conversation to begin. Fear can do that to a people."

"You've already done far too much for me, headmaster," Lupin commented. "You fought for me to have that job at Hogwarts and I'm extremely grateful for that. I know that I'm one of the lucky ones out of my kind, even if it doesn't feel like that sometimes." He sighed heavily "I just wish I could have been able to help Sirius a bit more. The Minister isn't a brave enough man to risk changing the established status quo. He's got a cushy position at the moment but attempting such reform paints a target on your back from the old guard. Not to mention that Fudge's grip on power isn't as strong as it could be, thanks mostly to Sirius' return."

"Is he trying to block Sirius from getting the result he deserves?" Harry asked nervously.

"Minister Fudge, despite what the Daily Prophet tends to argue, is an intelligent man," Dumbledore explained. "Once Peter Pettigrew is placed in front of him, he'll know that he's only left with one option. His reputation wouldn't be able to handle the backlash if he ignored such obvious evidence and ruled against Sirius for the second time in his career. It was his testimony, when he was just a junior minister, that went a long way in condemning Sirius. He'll be wary of that." He shook his head tiredly. "But that's enough of the seedy underbelly of politics for you all. We should be on our way."

Dumbledore led them to one of the elevators, calmly walking inside once one became free. Harry thought it was going to be a little bit cramped inside and that proved to be the case. He'd only just gotten through being crushed inside a phone box, and now he was having to contend with this. But he did get some enjoyment out of the sight of Matthew awkwardly doing his best not to crush Hermione, as if they'd never touched before. It was just that the other boy picked up on his enjoyment.

"I'd hold on if I were you," he muttered, wrapping his hand around a strap hanging from the ceiling.

Harry wasn't given any time to consider what that meant as the attendant pulled down on a lever and the elevator sprung into life. Not going down, as any sane person would have expected. No, it went backwards, firing Harry into the door. Then to the left, with Harry only staying upright thanks to Lupin's presence. He was eternally grateful when it eventually came to a stop, though he emerged through the open doors on shaky legs. He didn't want to do that again anytime soon.

They were now in a much darker corridor, devoid of the colour and personality of the main atrium. It was colder too, a place that was by no means welcoming. He saw Hermione shudder by his side. Lupin had stayed on the elevator to reach the higher section that housed the public, but Dumbledore was still chaperoning them. Even his presence wasn't enough to make Harry feel comfortable. He wanted to spend as little time as possible in there and was grateful when they came to the door that appeared to be the entrance.

"So how does this work?" Harry asked. "Will Sirius give his testimony first? And then they'll question Pettigrew?"

"I forgot to tell you, Harry," Dumbledore said apologetically. "That's saved for last, the evidence that will truly persuade the jury. Key witnesses go first. That's you three."

"Oh." That wasn't the news he'd really been wanting to hear. He wanted more time to prepare himself, to relax. His godfather was depending on their accounts working. "Do we…go into another room or something? And someone writes down our accounts?"

"You'll be speaking in front of the jury itself. They'll want to hear you testify personally, to remove doubt about the…validity of your statements."

"So…I just have to…walk in and…save my godfather's life. Simple."

"I'm here in a professional capacity, Harry. As Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. As well as acting as your temporary guardian in the wizarding world as your headmaster. You need not worry. If things go wrong, I'll be there to lend a guiding hand."

"Could things go wrong? How wrong? I'm not ready for this…surely they're not ready. The Ministry never runs on time."

Harry felt hands on both his shoulders, Matthew and Hermione both providing him with support. "We'll also be there," the former assured him.

"Aren't you worried about this too?"

"Deathly," Hermione answered. "I'm a muggle born student with no standing in the eyes of many of the jury. I'll have to contend with that."

"If they question your honesty, I won't be mincing my words," Matthew warned. "Whether he's the Minister or not, he'll still show you some respect."

Hermione smiled at him. "All we have to do is tell the truth. How hard can that be?"