It was a rather imposing atmosphere. Harry squirmed on the uncomfortable chair, knowing that all eyes were on him. He understood that it was best if he sat still since fidgeting would likely convince the jury that he had something to hide, but the back of the seat was so unnecessarily hard that it was impossible to find an angle that suited him. He realised that was probably the purpose of the chair, to make witnesses or criminals uncomfortable. They were in the wizarding world after all. Any one of them could have magicked up a cushion for him and the issue would have been solved. Harry didn't feel like asking.

It had been an excruciating wait to be emitted into the chamber. Harry had hoped that he and his friends would go in at the same time, retelling the story together. The thought of tackling this problem as a group certainly relaxed him, since they'd navigated other issues together before. But that had quickly been shot down, the three of them separated, unable to talk to one another, tasked with giving their accounts one after the other. It was always obvious that Harry was going to be left till last because that was the way his life normally worked. He was forever in the spotlight. If the Minister wanted to play into the public spectacle of the trial (the Prophet had been placing it as front page news for eight days straight, not that Harry subscribed to the paper), then it was inevitable that he would be viewed as more of an important witness compared to his friends. Even if they'd seen exactly the same thing play out. Again, he wasn't going to mention that. He had to keep the jury sweet.

The chamber itself was an intimidating location. He sat in that awful chair in the centre of the circular auditorium. He was on the floor level, which he'd anticipated everyone else to be on. But the officials were lined up in arcs circling the front of him, going up at least six rows. Every single one of them wore stuffy robes that were either black or an off pink, with funny little hats that Harry didn't see the point of. Minister Fudge, the only face that Harry recognised, was in the centre of them all, perched on an elevated platform, peering down at Harry. They were all looking down on him. There was some obvious symbolism there that Harry didn't have time to get into.

He nervously played with his fingers, before realising that would likely get scrutinised. He forced himself to stop. Harry wanted to look around, to try to spot anyone he knew. Would he be able to find Lupin in the crowd further above, although the public screening was behind him? He didn't want to turn his neck or clamber over the chair. Where was Dumbledore? He'd said he'd be there as his guardian, but his face couldn't be seen. Was he lurking somewhere, hidden, waiting to intervene if needed? Harry certainly hoped so. But he wasn't going to look. He made sure to keep his gaze firmly fixed on the Minister. It was only polite. It showed a level of respect that would hopefully get Fudge on his side. And maybe he hoped it would unnerve the older man if he refused to look away. Mind games. It was all mind games. That's what Matthew had whispered to him just before they'd been separated, although Hermione had hastily reminded him not to overthink it too much.

The problem was, Harry loved to overthink. It was practically one of his hobbies by now. Was he supposed to talk first? Introduce himself to his audience, even if he knew that everyone knew who he was? He'd been sitting there for quite some time, the chamber basked in an eerie silence. Were they waiting for him? Or was this all part of their tricks to unsettle him? Frankly, he felt he deserved a bit more of a warm welcome, since surely he was on the right side of the law. Then again, he was defending a man who had been conceived as a killer for over a decade. He'd been told that it was going to be difficult to overcome those thoughts that had been ingrained into society. It made him nervous all over again.

"Your name," Fudge finally spoke. "Is Harry James Potter?"

"Um…" As grateful as Harry was that the process had finally begun, didn't they already know this? Was that really his opening question? "Yes…sir." Politeness. Politeness was key. He watched for any reactions from the jury, as if he were passing some sort of test. No one showed any flickers of emotion.

"Resident of Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?"

"Yes, sir." For now, Harry added silently. Hopefully this trial would put an end to that misery.

"Mister Potter…we have heard from your two associates so far about the events of the night in question…but we are intrigued to hear your version of what happened."

"I'm sure it'll match everything they said, Minister."

That didn't seem to please the man as much as Harry had thought. Fudge frowned over his spectacles. "Quite. Your associates both told us that you were in the presence of Sirius Black, the man on trial today, for an unknown period of time before they arrived. Is that correct?"

"Yes. It wasn't actually that long. Maybe…five minutes?"

"Is that a guess?"

"Well, I didn't have a watch on me." He could picture Hermione biting her lip at his flippant comment. He was sure that he spotted one of the ministers, a woman, chuckling silently at the remark, though her mask was quickly put back in place.

Fudge leaned back slowly. "Why was it that you were in the presence of a known murderer, at night, when rules at Hogwarts stipulated that a strict curfew was in place? For your own safety, I might add."

He couldn't very well mention that he and his friends had basically ignored every rule in the book for three years. "Well, my friend, Hermione…one of the other witnesses…I was coming back from a private tutoring session…and saw her cat outside." Harry was well aware of how ridiculous this was sounding even as he said it. "I wanted to make sure it was safe but then it ran away and…it eventually led me to Sirius…um, I mean Mister Black." Best to be formal.

"A cat?" There were some murmurings of disbelief amongst his overseers. If they couldn't believe that, then there was no chance that the rest of the story would hold up.

"A kneazle, to be more precise. I was just looking out for a friend. It was a complete accident that I ended up stumbling across…Mister Black."

"How…convenient. And this private tutoring session you mentioned…could you tell us who that was conducted by?"

"It was supposed to be Professor Lupin. Professor Remus Lupin. But he had to cancel at the last minute, which was why I was heading back earlier than I normally would have."

"Remus Lupin…a known associate of Sirius Black, yes?"

This really wasn't going well. "Yes but…I didn't know that at the time. And they hadn't spoken since Sirius…I mean Mister Black…was locked away." He was getting a touch flustered. He wanted someone there with him.

"And was it Mister Lupin or Mister Black that told you that their friendship had been…put on hold?"

"Both of them."

"And you believe them?"

"I trusted my professor…but only once they showed me irrefutable proof."

"Do you care to enlighten us?"

"Well, I thought you knew what the proof was. They introduced me to Peter Pettigrew." Louder murmurings this time at the mention of that name.

Fudge didn't appear too comfortable around that topic. "Something this trial will be getting to in due course. What we want to know, from you, is simply what your experiences were that night. You said you…followed an animal…and this led to you being in Black's company."

"Precisely. In the Shrieking Shack."

"The…Shrieking Shack…" Further murmurings. Harry didn't like the murmurings. "Can you explain how a student like yourself managed to get to such a location under the cover of darkness, without the assistance of the Hogwarts carriages that only travel to Hogsmeade on particular weekends? Because that was something that your associates couldn't divulge."

"Can you stop calling them associates? They're my friends. There's no need to use such formal language."

Fudge looked flustered. "Answer the question. Your avoidance speaks volumes." The Minister's tone was now clipped. That wasn't a good sign.

"There's a tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow. It led straight to the shack."

"You expect us to believe that you happened to stumble across the perfect route to this location?"

"I didn't stumble across it. I followed the cat."

"The cat, once again. How fortunate."

"I don't understand why this is so difficult to comprehend. You must know that it all happened at the Shrieking Shack because it was massively damaged. That proves we were there."

"I think you should be speaking to the Minister with a lot more respect, young man," a high pitched squeak echoed around the chamber.

"That's quite alright, Delores," Fudge responded, holding up a hand. "I can understand Mister Potter's confusion and perhaps…frustrations. We are not asking you about this to pinpoint the location of events. We are asking to ascertain how you knew to go there. Did Sirius Black tell you where to go beforehand?"

That flummoxed Harry. "No! I'd never spoken to him! Like I said, it was just an accident."

"I'm curious to know…as I'm sure we all are…just what happened in the brief period you were alone with Mister Black."

"There's not a lot to say. I shouted at him for the things I'd thought he'd done. I…wanted to hurt him." Was he supposed to be admitting that? It didn't sound too good on record. Even if he hadn't given into those temptations, it still coloured his character in a certain way.

"And did you?"

"No. But he gave me the chance to do so. I didn't take it."

"Did he harm you in any way?"

"No, because he wasn't really that interested in me. He wanted to get to Pettigrew, who he'd managed to catch just beforehand. I think that's the most solid evidence you need that your conceptions about Sirius are wrong. If you believed the stories, he would have killed me within seconds of us being in the same room. He barely moved close to me. The only reason he was happy to see me was because he wanted me to know the truth."

"That Peter Pettigrew was alive and well?"

"Exactly. Because that would prove his innocence. Of course, I didn't believe him at first. Professor Lupin intervened, and then my two friends, before we were shown that Pettigrew was still living."

"Why did your professor show up?"

"Because he thought I was in trouble. Obviously…I hadn't shown up in the common room for some time….and with the rumours about Sirius circling around, I think people suspected the worst. That's why all three of them came. To save me. But they didn't need to save me from Sirius."

Fudge slowly nodded his head. "What happened once Pettigrew was revealed?"

Harry was going to leave out what happened in between. He had no idea if Matthew had mentioned the Tardis, but saw it as incredibly unlikely. And, as for the werewolf incident, there was no way that he was going to throw Lupin under the proverbial bus. "We took him back to Hogwarts, straight to the headmaster. We reckoned he was the best suited to deal with a situation like this. I think…he spoke to you that night, Minister." He thought it was a good idea to bring that up, to tie Fudge into events. By the way he seemed to squirm in his seat, Harry decided he'd made the right choice.

"Yes, he did. Now…Mister Potter…we are yet to hear from Messers Pettigrew and Black. If their accounts, under veritaserum, and their memories, align with the retellings we've received from you and your…friends…what would you want the verdict to be?"

"All I care about is Sirius getting his freedom. That's all he deserves. As for Pettigrew…I just want him gone. Gone from my life. He's torn everything away from me. He took my parents away from me. Why would I defend Sirius if I still believed he was responsible for that? I'll even take veritaserum to prove it, if necessary."

"That won't be necessary, my dear boy. First of all, you aren't of age yet, so the use of such a potion on you is strictly forbidden. Secondly, veritaserum only provides the truth of how the recipient perceives reality. It is still possible that Mister Black placed you under a powerful confundus charm, or something much darker. If that were the case, the veritaserum would simply make you regurgitate the falsehoods that Black wants you to believe."

"He wouldn't do that to me! He loved my parents, and he loved me."

"Do you know that for certain? You told us that you haven't seen him since you were a child. You told us that there was no contact between the two of you when he escaped Azkaban. If that is the case, how could you possibly know what sort of a man Sirius Black is?"

It was a question that continued to play on Harry's mind as he left the auditorium. He had been so quick to become excited about the prospect of living with Sirius that he had hardly stopped to think about the actual situation. The man was a relative stranger, a figure from the first year of his life. Even if he was telling the truth about Pettigrew and the fate of his parents, which Harry still believed, that didn't change the fact that he still didn't know the man. Was he a good man? Just because he hadn't betrayed his parents didn't mean that he'd be a good guardian. It was a pretty low bar to pass. Harry remembered the look of joy on Sirius' face when he had agreed to move in with him once this was all over. He didn't want to be responsible for taking that happiness away, but was that the right reason to agree?

When he found his way out of the chamber, basically moving on autopilot, he found Hermione waiting for him in the corridor. She was quickly by his side, taking his hand in hers, a move that brought some warmth back to his body. It felt like he had gone ten rounds with a dementor, but his friend always had the ability to make him feel normal again. No wonder Matthew had apparently fallen for her. He was just surprised that he hadn't done the same. Maybe if his brain hadn't been so muddled up by the interrogation he'd just faced, he might have stopped to consider why he was thinking about that.

"You were wonderful, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, forever willing to give him praise. Maybe he just wasn't used to people talking so positively about him. "Once our statements were done, we were allowed to go to the viewing area with the public attendees. We were watching everything."

"I don't feel wonderful," Harry admitted sourly. "I don't think I did a good job of convincing the jury about Sirius' innocence."

"Are you serious? It was really moving at times, what you said. Especially towards the end. I think it was perfectly acceptable for you to be nervous in the beginning, but you soon got your stride. Even from our box all the way up there, we could see you sort of…grow in your chair, sitting straighter. Because you believed every word you were saying. The jury would have been able to sense that."

Harry looked around the empty corridor. "Where is everyone then? Matthew?" It wasn't very usual that the pair of them were left on their own.

"Oh, they're saving our seats in the box so we can watch the rest of the trial. I thought I'd come and greet you, maybe give you some moral support. I can only imagine what you must be feeling like right now. It was bad enough for me, and I'm not invested in this trial as much as you. Not that I'm not interested…it's just…you know…revolving around you and your family." She gave him a pitying look, one he'd seen far too often in his relatively short life. "As for Matthew, he's currently speaking to Dumbledore, asking whether the headmaster should have been down there with you. It was quite brutal at times, what we were witnessing. Fudge really went into you, a lot more than he did me, and I presume Matthew too. So it's even more of a testament of how well you did that you emerged out the other side unscathed."

"If this is what unscathed feels like, I don't want to find out about the other option."

Hermione's hand moved to his shoulder, rubbing it gently. "You've got to remember that the outcome of the trial doesn't rest solely on you, or us for that matter. We're like the accompaniments…an amuse bouche…don't tell Matthew I called us that, by the way. Putting Pettigrew in that chair, in front of everyone to see…that's the main meal."

"What if we've made the wrong decision? What if we've backed Sirius and it turns out he's lied to us?" Harry didn't think he could through another betrayal like that. The entire year had been packed full of them.

Hermione gazed at him curiously. "What's brought this on? You were the first to accept Sirius for his word that night. Why would you be changing your mind now?"

"It's just…I think Fudge has gotten inside my head. He started mentioning things like confundus charms and…what if we're actually under a spell? I don't know much about dark magic but isn't it possible? Isn't there a chance that we wouldn't know that we're actually his puppets?"

"I think Dumbledore would know if that were the case. It'd take some pretty powerful magic to mess with his mind. You sat in there, fully convinced that Sirius would never do that to you. I know it's hard, but you have to hold onto that faith. We've seen how much he cares about you in such a short space of time. He risked everything to get to Hogwarts to protect you from Pettigrew."

"You know that's exactly what he'd want us to say if we were under his spell…"

She smiled sadly at him. "I don't know how you do it, you know?"

His brow creased. "What are you talking about?"

"Any normal person going through the way your life has gone, it would have been excusable for them to have trust issues. This is what's happening right now. Your past experiences are telling you not to get your hopes up, because you've learnt that that gets you hurt in the end. But I can see it in your eyes…you want to trust Sirius. It takes a great person, Harry, to battle through what you have and still have the capacity for trust."

"I've always trusted you and Matthew."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "Always?"

"Well…maybe I've faltered in these past few weeks…but I quickly learnt the error of my ways."

"Because we care about you. That's why you trust us. And Sirius is the same. Now he's regained some of that faith, he'll do his utmost to not let it slip again. I'm sure of that."

"And if you're wrong?" He didn't want her to be. He desperately wanted her to be right. But, like she said, it was sometimes difficult to expect the best.

"I'll eat the sorting hat. And do you know how old that thing is? Because there's a detailed chapter in Hogwarts: A History and I'd be more than willing to recount it to you."

Harry laughed. He'd really needed that. "You know…everyone talks about you being the brightest witch of an age…but they always seem to forget how wise you are when it comes to things away from academics. I don't think anyone in our year would have been able to tell me what you just did and have me believe them."

She waved a hand. "You're going to make me blush. This is about you, not me."

"No wonder Matthew…" He stopped just in the nick of time. And it really was just . His eyes widened, he bit down on his lip. Because of course Hermione was going to pick up on that.

"No wonder Matthew…what?" Her arms were now folded, that look on her face she always wore when she wanted to know something. She despised having a gap in her knowledge.

"We should…take a seat! I don't want to miss Sirius when he gets in." He was moving before she could react, not slowing down even at the sound of her shouts. He made sure to sit in between Matthew and the puzzled girl once they were in the box, in the hope of avoiding any awkward encounters. Matthew was peering at them both curiously but Harry shut down any attempts at conversation, pretending he was simply nervous about what was about to happen. He was relieved (albeit nervous) when he could stop distracting them when Sirius was led into the chamber.

His godfather looked so small. That was undoubtedly down to the height they were looking at him from but, even so, his demeanour wasn't as impressive. In the face of the jurors, he had appeared to shrink. Harry wondered whether it was down to nerves, the fear of being sent back to Azkaban. The threat of prison had been avoidable when he'd been on the run, evading the very same authorities that he now looked to for sanctuary. If this went wrong, this would be the last he saw of the free world. Just the thought of it was making Harry's chest constrict, and he was grateful for the feel of Hermione's hand cupping his own once again.

Sirius' testimony was fairly identical to Harry's, as well as matching the tale he had told them that night in the Shrieking Shack. It was unnerving, however, to witness all expression leave his face as he was forced to take veritaserum (although he would have used it willingly since he no longer had anything to hide). The potion made him resemble a zombie, answering all questions with the same, eerie monotonous tone. He recounted the events that had led to him finding Harry, including how he had escaped from Azkaban. That also involved admitting he was an illegal animagus, which had caused a significant stir in the jury and the crowd around them. But it had to be done because it laid the groundwork for Pettigrew's similar attributes being uncovered. Sirius went into great detail about how the massacre that had tainted his life had been somewhat fictitious. Fudge had strongly resisted that notion, having witnessed it himself. Harry could understand the Minister's reluctance, even if it was heavily frustrating, because he could resonate with the difficulty of learning that something had been a lie his entire life.

But even the minister couldn't deny what was shown through Sirius' memories. Uniformed men escorted a floating dish into the courtroom, something that had fascinated Harry to no end. Hermione had called it a pensieve, telling him that she'd love to talk to him about it later (there was never an escape from her imparting her wisdom, not that he wanted one). When the memories had begun to play for the crowd, Matthew had put an arm around Harry's shoulders, a comforting gesture to help him with what they had to see. It was the night his parents died. He didn't have to watch it happen (he'd already seen that event enough thanks to his patronus lessons) but their bodies lay motionless all the same. Harry had refused to cry, knowing that such a display of public emotion would give the lurking journalists a field day.

It felt like no time had passed before Sirius was carted away. There was a great hush that descended on everyone inside as they tried to comprehend what they'd heard. It completely changed everything they had been told in the press, everything they thought they knew about the man they'd just witnessed spill his every darkest secret. Some people were tearful at the injustice, others sat in disbelief, shaking their heads. Harry couldn't tell what sort of reaction the jury were having, their faces all unreadable. Apart from the one man who truly mattered. Fudge appeared devastated, all the years of his service seemingly weighing down upon him. He looked old and fragile, a far cry from the pompous man who Harry had interacted with before. He hoped that was a good sign, that the Minister was on Sirius' side. He couldn't understand how anyone couldn't be after that testimony.

If there was any sadness he'd felt at seeing Sirius looking so fragile, Harry's emotions turned to anger as he saw Pettigrew receive the same treatment. In fact, it was a sort of twisted satisfaction when he saw his face turn blank, once the guards had been able to force the veritaserum down his unwilling throat. While his body had been struggling initially against his bonds, the potion made his limbs go limp and docile. The diminutive man could barely be seen over the back of his chair but Harry still watched him with close intent. He was constantly on edge that the traitor had one more trick up his sleeve, that he'd turn back into his animal form and somehow escape their clutches. But none of that happened. The potion did its work, removing the thought from Pettigrew's mind. And he sang so sweetly.

The crowd (and even the jury) gasped at all the right moments. Even his presence, physical evidence that he was alive, was enough to convince people of his lies. At the start, the trial focused specifically on the events after Godric's Hollow. They watched from Pettigrew's perspective as Sirius hunted him down, only for the world to explode around them from Pettigrew's own wand. They watched as he turned into a rat and ingratiated himself into a nice, unsuspecting wizarding family before his past eventually, deservedly caught up with him.

It was the other parts that troubled Harry the most. Because that wasn't enough for the Wizengamot. They wanted to learn the true extent of his treachery to society, and so they delved deeper into his memories. His service to Voldemort was laid to bare, terrifying the crowd who had not seen that figure, had refused to think about that figure, for over a decade. For Harry, it was the first time he had seen that face. It was the face of his parents' killer, shown smiling at Pettigrew's pitiful servitude. In the memories brought on by the dementors, Harry had only ever seen that an ominous, cloaked figure. He had seen Voldemort's visage on the back of Quirrell's head and his teenage form brought to life by a cursed diary. But this was seeing the man properly, the true dark wizard. It would have been too much to bear if it hadn't been for his friends by his side. Even Dumbledore looked like he was seeing a ghost as they watched it play out.

Harry was sure that the jury were fully prepared to reveal their verdict. What other decision could they make other than apologising to Sirius (with extensive reparations) and condemning Pettigrew? But then the chamber seemed to shake. No, it definitely shook. A slight cloud of dust descended from the ceiling. People looked around nervously, chatter increasing. It almost felt like a weak earthquake, not that Harry had experienced something like that before. He glanced over to his friends, to Dumbledore, who all looked concerned. The room shook again, more violently this time. People were beginning to disperse out of fear, hurrying from their seats. He noted the guards hurriedly taking Pettigrew away, who was too out of it to tell what was going on. Even the members of the Wizengamot were starting to leave, whilst Fudge told everyone to remain calm.

"Harry…please will you take my arm?" Dumbledore looked to him, brokering no argument. They stood up and Harry did as instructed. He noticed the headmaster nod his head to Matthew, who posed the same question to Hermione. Harry would have liked to have considered what was going on before his world turned upside down. He felt like he had been flipped over, his body experiencing a sensation akin to being squeezed through a tight tube. He closed his eyes, only risking opening them when he felt his feet touch a solid surface once more.

They were in the atrium, by two large windows on a raised dais. Harry wanted to be sick. He was going to be sick. Thankfully, Dumbledore was on hand to absentmindedly vanish it away. Once that was over, Harry was able to better comprehend his surroundings. Below, panicked witches and wizards were running about. Through the windows, he could see the Muggle street that housed the Ministry, though it was a scene of chaos compared to what he had witnessed earlier.

"I'm sorry for the sudden experience, Harry," the headmaster said. "But, given the potentially grave circumstances, I thought it best to extricate you as quickly as possible. You might feel more nausea for quite some time. It can be difficult on your first go."

"What…what happened?" Harry managed to get out.

"I apparated, with you by my side. I'm sure you know what that means. We transported ourselves out of the chamber."

"But…why?"

A small pop came from behind them, Matthew and Hermione suddenly appearing. Whilst the former was more composed as they landed, the latter's hair was a mess and her legs were incredibly unsteady.

"You could have warned me about that!" she complained.

"Telling you what was about to happen would have just made it worse," Matthew explained, though he was focused on the sight beyond the window. "What's happening? Why did we have to get out of there so quickly? Are we under attack?"

"I thought we were," Dumbledore replied. "But it seems the attack was short-lived. Even still…the perpetrators left their mark." He was looking up at the sky.

Harry followed his eyeline. It was a floating skull, all dark and green. It was a horrendous sight, a snake slithering out from its mouth. "What is that?" It sent him cold just looking at it.

"That…is the dark mark."