It's coming. Soon, Sirius will be tried. And if I was a cruel woman, I'd send him back to Azkaban. What? Who said I was?
Oh, and by the way, Scrimgeour strangely lost his temper today...
Chapter 14: The accused
The day had come.
And Sirius intended for his trial to be the grandest in the century. The good thing being, obviously, that if he succeeded, there wouldn't be many years to outdo his prowess.
He put his wand in the holster he always had with him, put back in place the sleeve of his robe, if it could really be called that, and started to review his strategy point after point.
Some might say he was too devil-may-care with the matter, but sincerely, they owed him that. So what if he planned to play the whole court, just because he could, just because he'd love nothing better than to make them speechless and to see them follow his lead blindly? They had taken away his liberty, his life and his mirth for twelve years, because they hadn't deemed necessary to give him this moment the first time. He would have begged for a trial, at the time, but he had known it to be useless. So he had said nothing after the first and only time a man had spat in his face, saying that scum such as himself didn't deserve to be listened to, much less in a trial.
He had had time, years even, to dwell on every reason why he shouldn't have been in Azkaban, accused of such a monstrous treason. He had had time, to remember how unfair it was, how cruel it was, for him to be with the damned dementors, plundering his mind again and again, in search of the worst thoughts he had kept locked away all his life, and, of course, of the resentment and despair he was in because of his unasked-for imprisonment. He had had time, confined in Grimmauld Place, to make his case.
And he fully intended to make use of it.
Sirius was a Gryffindor, that was true, but he was as much of a Slytherin, and people too often forgot that. Well, the thing was, they forgot when they knew who he really was, but they hadn't when it had been about him possibly betraying his best friend to a mass murderer. That time, it had all come back to his face, his family, his blood, his name, and every single moment he had shown how cruel and manipulative he could be if he wanted to. That time, there had been no one to stand by his side, for those who would have even wanted to weren't suicidal.
The young lord walked to the large mirror to fix his clothing.
It was his trial, and he wanted it to be unforgettable. The less he could do for that was to look stunning and regal. He was Lord Black, and he was going to court to prove how wronged he had been. He couldn't afford to go there in jeans and sneakers – though it would have been hilarious.
As usual, his slick black hair was perfectly straight – inhumanly so, James had said one day, but the boy had a nest instead of hair, so Sirius had told him he was only being jealous. No need to take care of that, it was natural.
The young lord had chosen to wear a not-so-traditional robe, black and of great quality, certainly. The front was closed by three silver lanyards going over his right shoulder. It had no left sleeve and on its left side it didn't go lower than his hip. Silver-threaded on the sides and in elusive patterns, it followed the Black colours, and that was why his mother had reluctantly agreed to have it made for his eighteenth birthday. Of course, he had never seen it, and had been a bit surprised when he had found it hidden in her room.
The shirt he wore under the dueling robe was white but with golden threads. The collar and the cuffs were closed by silver fasteners and lanyards. His black pants were threaded at the bottom in silver, in the same patterns as the robe's, and his shoes, black too, were polished.
Perfect. He totally looked the part.
Beware, aristocratic pureblood coming in.
"Bellatrix?"
The ghost hovered off the painting she had been squinting at, since he had banished her from the bathroom, and looked at him appraisingly.
"I don't know if you'll be acquitted, but I can assure you you'll receive marriage contracts this very evening, whether you're sent back to Azkaban or not."
She dodged the thrown pillow with dexterity and moved to the relative safety of the ceiling.
"All jokes aside, how do you want me to get to the trial? I can't really fly in and say I'm here for the show, can I? Though, I do want to enjoy the show..."
"You're a ghost. Walk through the walls. Or rather, the ground of London, but you get my point."
Bella rolled her eyes and eventually mock bowed at her cousin, and went off.
"And don't show yourself before I tell you to."
Sirius sighed, not sure she had heard, but it didn't really matter. Strangely enough, he trusted her not to endanger him by doing as she pleased. To trust Bellatrix of all people! The world was going astray... But the ghost seemed to really care, about him, and about the future of their family, and she certainly didn't hate him anymore. Maybe he was a fool... but he trusted her.
Ten minutes later, the Black lord left the master room of the manor and went to fetch his two human shadows, one of whom asked why they were leaving so early – the trial wouldn't begin before nine...
Sirius gave them a rare, genuine smile.
"We're going to St. Mungo's. Alice and Frank are completely healed, and I want to see them before... Well, before my fate is decided."
When they came into the hospital, all heads turned their way, and many people were eyeing the young lord's clothes with awe. Sirius ignored them all, and walked purposely to the fourth floor.
Outside the Janus Thickey Ward, he heard the soft and welcoming voice of Augusta Longbottom, and instinctively stiffened. She was apparently busy ordering around her son and daughter-in-law as they were packing their things.
Sirius pushed the door hesitantly, and watched the scene without entering.
Frank looked completely distressed under his mother's long-forgotten iron ruling, but he was present, and that was so much better than what he had been for the last fifteen years or so, Sirius wasn't going to complain. The former auror was frequently glancing at his wife, who simply ignored her mother-in-law, too concerned with her crying son for the moment. Augusta was whirling aroung, packing things in their stead, actually, and speaking about everything that had gone to the dogs while Alice and Frank had been... inconscious. Neville, whom Sirius remembered from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, was buried in his mother's arms. He was sobbing quietly, if the tremor of his back was anything to go by, and the Black lord caught a glimpse of something that looked like a candy wrapper clutched in one of his hands.
Sirius was already closing the door to leave them to their reunion, but Frank noticed the movement and recognized him. For a second, their eyes met, and the young lord saw the conflict in the man's eyes.
Was it because of the last time they had heard of him, before their sanity had been taken away? Was it because they remembered he was the one who had gotten them back? Was it because they had understood who the ghostly figure next to him had been, back then?
Were they still doubting him?
Sirius smiled sadly, and, a finger against his lips, he proceeded to close the door and leave.
Frank, seeing his way out of his mother's tyranny escaping, ran through the ward and jumped on the door which he then drew wide-open. Two mediwitchs let out a shrill cry in suprise, and Augusta Longbottom ceased her complaining. Alice simply looked up while her son stopped crying and let his curiosity get the better of him.
Sirius, on the other side of the door, had stopped moving – and maybe, breathing, he wasn't sure.
Dawlish and Moody Jr. had taken their wands out, but soon let it go, as they eyed their former senior suspiciously. Dawlish was surely wishing for Frank to jump at his charge's throat and kill him for whatever reason he could have – such as, your-cousin-did-this-to-me-you-bastard – but unfortunately, that never happened. Julius Moody was an inch away from asking the former aurors for their autographs.
Seeing how he had startled everyone, Frank calmed down a bit.
"Sirius, come in, come in. We heard of what happened... But why are you all dressed up?"
"I don't want to intrude, I'll come back later..."
The former auror gripped the young lord's left arm.
"You're not weaseling your way out of this one, mate. Last time we were able to understand a thing, you were hauled off to Azkaban for slaughtering a street, and when your lovely cousin tortured us into insanity, she constantly mocked us, saying about you that we had been well played. The thing is, she never said you were one of them, only that we were wrong about you, and it seemed to amuse her to no end that you were making buddies with dementors."
Sirius paled at that, as he wondered how exactly the Longbottoms were going to take the news about Bella's ghostly return.
"Did she? Well, she's not wrong... since everyone believed me to be guilty when I was not."
Everyone in the room was intently listening, and Sirius tried not to be too disturbed by the attention. He'd face worse in less than an hour, but it wasn't exactly the same thing. He simply wasn't ready yet... and he didn't want to play Frank and Alice, so it was completely different.
"Anyway, my part of the trial is next hour, and I'd better be on my way..."
Frank gave him a look, finally getting why he was so grandly clothed.
"They did say something about you never having a trial, but I couldn't believe they would never, as in never ever, give you one..."
And he shot an accusatory glare at Dawlish and Moody Jr.
Once again, Sirius tried to leave, but once again, he was stopped, this time by Alice, who had walked to him and her husband.
She spoke softly, not wanting to be overheard by the people in the room. The patients weren't a big deal, most of them being quite unable to understand a thing, but the mediwitchs, healers and the two aurors could be bad news if they managed to understand what was going to be talked about.
"Sirius, why did you do it?"
The young lord stared at her, not understanding what she was talking about. The question could have been about Wormtail, James, and his supposed betrayal, but she didn't seem angry, so she certainly didn't believe it at all. Aside from that...
But no, her tone was gentle, grateful even, but a bit pitying too, and certainly scared.
"Why did you take us back, when you knew it could send you right back to the dementors?"
Sirius said nothing for a while, analyzing his friends' faces. And when he finally talked, his tone was a bit dull, a bit too neutral to be honest.
"You remember."
"I do."
Alice knew he had been the one to free her mind, and worse, she knew how he had done it. She didn't hold a grudge against him for that, because it would have been unwarranted. He had saved her and her husband. He had given them back to their family. He had hurt no one in the process.
But he had used an Unforgivable, and Alice was worried of what would happen to him if the word got out. It might not matter to them, how he had done it, because he hadn't done anything wrong, but it could be used against him. And some people wouldn't think twice about doing exactly that. To them, Sirius Black was too much of threat to be allowed to remain free, and that statement was true... for both sides in the war.
"I do too."
Frank looked grave, all of a sudden, as he remembered how his friend had gotten to him, days before. He had already been subjected to the Imperius curse, and he had recognized the feeling. He had recognized the orders, and he hadn't fought them, for he had recognized his friend, and he had known the orders weren't to control him, but to help him.
There was nothing to blame Sirius for, and still, both Longbottoms knew people would blame him.
And the young lord knew very well what the married couple was thinking.
So Sirius gave them a bright, gentle smile.
"Don't worry about it."
"How could we not?! You saved us from a life-time of insanity, and you did it by putting yourself in danger! You can't expect us to sit down and watch as they'll..."
Sirius put his finger against his lips once again, and nodded at the people listening. It wasn't the place nor the time to talk about his use of an Unforgivable. And if they were going to do that anyway, they'd better to do it discreetly.
"As I said, I have it all under control. No one will ever find out, because I'm going to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, during my upcoming testimony. I won't let them have a chance to dig up a dark secret from my past, because I will be giving them all on a silver platter. There is nothing like honesty."
And indeed, he was being honest right now. A bit too honest, maybe.
Alice squinted her eyes and looked at him, as if accessing his level of madness.
"Are you crazy?"
See, exactly what he had surmised.
"Why, of course it is a yes! Now, I will be leaving you to your family reunion, I have a case to win."
And with that, Sirius tried to walk away. Unfortunately for him, the Longbottoms had been unable to act for too many years, and so didn't feel like letting anyone have their way if it wasn't the same as theirs.
Frank and Alice shared a look, and then looked at Augusta and Neville. The old woman nodded her understanding. Then the couple went after their friend, unwilling to let him get away so easily. Augusta and their son would join them at the Ministry, once they'd be done with getting their things back to Longbottom Castle.
Sirius walked out of the Janus Thickey Ward, and made his way for a good ten minutes. Then, he abruptly turned on his heels and sent a withering glare at his stubborn friends who were following him closely. Of course, neither Frank nor Alice flinched, and they simply returned his glare.
Julius, who was just behind the group of former aurors / auror-in-training with Dawlish, stopped in his tracks and waited to see how this would unfold. He hadn't noticed before that, but they were quite a strange sight. And the people they crossed path with usually let them plenty of room to move upon seeing them. As if they were too odd a company to approach.
Out of the five of them, there were four purebloods, two of which had spent years in St. Mungo's, while another one had spent years in Azkaban. They had all been associated with the Auror Office at some point, Julius and Dawlish because they were aurors, the Longbottoms because they had been well known aurors, and Black because he had been the star trainee as soon as he had joined. They were supposedly elite.
While the two current aurors were wearing the uniform, Alice and Frank Longbottom had simple navy blue robes for they were just leaving the hospital, and Black was plainly stunning. He radiated amongst them, and no one missed his tall frame and slender built.
Black stayed silent for a while, staring at the former aurors.
Finally, he asked, holding his voice low but nonetheless quite intimidating:
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Following you to this damned trial."
"You won't."
"We will."
The wizards and the witch went on glaring at each other for quite a while, and in the end, Julius forced a cough to stop their contest of might.
Black slowly turned his head towards the young auror, who almost shrank at the malicious glint in the man's eyes. Still, he didn't.
"Lord Black, I'm afraid we ought to be moving. It will do you no good if you arrive late at your own trial, and I believe there is a potion you wish to have tested before it begins."
The wizard stared at him for a second, then relaxed.
"Moody Jr. is right."
There he turned back to the Longbottoms, and gave them a stern look that could almost have competed with McGonagall's. But as far as Julius was concerned, the young auror was too disturbed by the side glances he had received when Black had used his newfound nickname.
"We got to move, and you can do whatever you want. But don't go and blast my whole strategy because you fear for my head. I'm good enough to handle myself in front of the Wizengamot, thank you very much."
Julius was surprised to see Alice Longbottom arch an eyebrow at the reprimand. Her and her husband seemed to be quite surprised with the seriousness of the Black lord, as if they were expecting him to be much more difficult to handle. But after all, the young man hadn't spent much time with Black, and yet what he had seen was enough for him to say the man was unpredictable. One moment he could be playful or full of sarcasm, and the other he was freezing people on the spot with just one look.
Frank snorted quietly, probably not to be heard by his friend.
But of course, it didn't work, and Sirius was glaring back at him alone the next second. Strangely, Sirius felt like he was glaring quite a lot this morning.
"Frank. Would you mind sharing with the class, perhaps?"
And instead of looking ashamed – and why would he, after all, he wasn't in shool anymore – Frank only snorted louder.
Great, Sirius thought, the guy was just back from the land of the insane ones, and he was already grating on his nerves.
"You want us to believe you're not planning to sacrifice your freedom only so that you can get a chance to shock everyone, and ashame them, and frighten them, and make them feel as worthless as they are? We know you, Sirius, you will destroy all those who dare to go against you, even if it means you'll be destroyed alongside them. But here, it's a Wizengamot court trial, not some school skirmish. They won't take well to you bringing them down to the mud."
Everyone seemed to share the former auror's point of view – even Dawlish, though he himself did hope that statement to come true so that the Black lord would be thrown back in jail.
Everyone, except Sirius, obviously.
"And so what? Would you have liked it better to continue laying up there like a vegetable? I did what I did, and I will say the truth no matter what. If the members of the Wizengamot are too near-sighted to see that and they condenm me once more, if they are unable to understand how much mistrust I have in all of them after what the Ministry, after what the wizarding community did to me, if they are unwilling to comprehend that despite everything, I still wish to stand for them, they deserve my anger. If they aren't, they won't have to witness it, or at least, to witness it directed at them. I gave up everything, when I could have had everything, for our equality. I was a Black, I am a Black, and that meant the world during the war, but where was I? I was battling against those who bore names such as mine, against those who would have treated me as nobility if I had joined them, and for that, I at most received suspicious or hainous glances, and from both sides at that! I did what I had to do, I tried being nice, and it cost me all that I had not yet given up. Hope! Friends! Family! Dignity! I tried being a proper good guy, at least while in public, and it earned me nothing."
The young lord's voice had not raised a decibel during his tirade, but those who could hear him weren't fooled by his restraint. Sirius Black was furious, and for once, he was letting his resentment be seen. They knew he could have hidden it, as he always did, but somehow, he had decided them trustworthy enough to see a glimpse of the hatred he harboured.
"As of now, I will be who I am, and I won't feel sorry for those who can't take it. You, Frank, and you, Alice, you know who I really am. Once, I tried to tame myself when in public, so that people would trust me. The good it did me! Despite all my efforts, they never saw past my name. I won't make that error again. I am nothing to be ashamed of, and they will see. Not every good man is grandfatherly like Dumbledore."
Frank said nothing to that. He had nothing to say.
But it wasn't Alice's case.
The witch didn't think her friend was right or wrong. She only wanted to be sure he had considered all options and consequences, before throwing himself to a possible death.
Of course, she believed he had done so. Sirius Black wasn't an idiot, far from it. If people sometimes believed him thoughtless, it was only because he allowed them to. But as it happened, rage could blind even the wisest, and while the young lord was some sort of genius, he was also hot-blooded. Most of the time, he could keep it under control.
Most of the time.
Sirius knew that very well too. The Wormtail fiasco, the Whomping Willow incident, and two or three other times, such as what had happened when he had been seven years old, were times he hadn't managed to maintain control over his temper.
Or, more accurately, times he had knowingly allowed this control to disappear.
Eitherway, he wouldn't go wild this time. Quite the contrary, actually. He'd just be the cold, calculating, cruel man he could be – the one they expected. It was also one of the reason he was venting out his anger right now. Better safe than sorry.
Better now than later.
Better with friends than with foes.
And Alice knew that. She knew that no matter how fearsome the Black lord would be during his trial, he wouldn't act like he was acting right now. She didn't fear for such a thing to happen.
The witch only wanted her friend to be safe, and so, she felt she needed to ask.
Or rather, to point out.
"If you fail, they'll send you back to Azkaban."
Something akin to laughter flickered on Sirius' face, but he contained himself.
Still, his answer shocked everyone into hearing range nonetheless.
"I escaped once. I'll do it again."
And the wizard only left them there, rooted to the ground.
Bitterish Dawlish was certainly wondering how mad and crazy and touched and cracked he was, Moody Jr. surely had stars in his eyes, and Alice and Frank were definitely thinking of a way to gag him during the whole trial without anyone noticing, because they were quite certain he was going right to his downfall.
Frankly, Sirius didn't care right now. They wouldn't do it, Julius was no threat, and Dawlish could go and hang himself for all he cared. He had decided not to mention escaping Azkaban again in front of aurors, sure, but well, it wasn't as if they could do much damage now, could they? He would be in court in less than one hour, and he hadn't exactly told them how he thought he was going to do such a thing. For all they knew, he could have been bragging.
Having to wait for them at the hospital's entrance, Sirius put this time to good use, and calmed down quite a bit. Not that anyone had noticed how upset he'd been, for he was incredibly great at masking his feelings. Black quality, once again.
When the Longbottoms, Julius and Dawlish finally joined him, everyone in the entrance of St. Mungo's was a respectful distance away from the Black lord, watching him wordlessly as he stood alone. Seeing the people with him, seeing that they were leaving together, whispers began to grow.
No one ignored what day it was. No one ignored what would come to pass during the following hours. If there was one thing no one knew, it was what would come out of this day.
They entered the Ministry of Magic by the visitors' entrance, even if the aurors and former aurors could easily have used the floo to the Atrium without anyone bothering them for it. Even Sirius, as Lord Black, technically had the right to do so. The only thing was that between theory and facts, there sometimes was an entire world.
Still, Sirius refused to wear the bagde that was given to him. It wasn't as if anyone ignored what he was here for. So he just put the badge in his pocket, no matter what the others tried to convince him with.
Inside the Ministry too, everyone was staring, not only at the Black lord, but at the Longbottom couple accompanying him. Firstly, because they were up and about and didn't look like demented people at all. Then, because they were with Sirius freaking Black, and no one knew what to make of it. Were they friends? Had he played them too, or was that another proof of his innocence? And well, all these fine people were arguing over a badge in the middle of the Atrium.
Eventually Sirius had to surrender his wand – not that he did this out of good will – and made his way to the court room which had been holding his trial, and would hold his testimony hearing.
On the way, he found Remus who was waiting patiently with Snape's sinemendatium. He had no time to greet all those he recognized formerly, and no wish to do so. But he nodded politely to Theodore and Eleanor Rowle. The reason the wizard was here was obvious. He was a lord, he had a seat in the Wizengamot. His niece seemed to have taken an interest in his case, so her presence wasn't surprising either. Sirius smirked at Tonks, who sticked out her tongue in answer, while Andromeda rolled her eyes and Ted hid a laugh. The young lord acknowledged the presence of other members of the Order of the Phoenix, and he couldn't refrain himself from noticing their greetings to be quite stiff. Mad-Eye grunted something incomprehensible in a perfectly-Moody-fashion that made Sirius smile. He didn't catch sight of Harry, and wasn't surprised. Dumbledore had surely planned it so the boy would already be inside when the bulk of the crowd arrived.
"There's not much difference between black and dark."
Sirius turned to the wizard who had sneered the veiled insult.
His eyes met those of Benjamin Abbot, one of the rare halfblooded lords. The House of Abbot was an old wizarding family, and while they had been purebloods for centuries, the previous lord had married a muggle, to the great dismay of most of the Noble and Ancient Houses. Sirius could hear his mother sneering about it even now.
Not that his mother's prejudices were the least of the young lord's worries right now.
Abbot had just accused him of being dark – in masked words, yes, but it was still there.
Not that Sirius wasn't dark. The only thing was, he didn't use his darkness to do evil, and that had to count for something, hadn't it?
But the Abbot lord wanted to play on colors and names? Names, he couldn't do anything about. It wasn't as if the wizard was a Slytherin or a Bones. There was no good pun to do with his name, except maybe with abortion, and Sirius felt it wasn't a good idea to use that. But as for colors...
The man shouldn't have been wearing what he had chosen to wear. Really, did wizarding people have no idea of what elegance was?
Sirius smiled coldly at Benjamin Abbot, and somehow, the wizard figured he wasn't going to like what was about to be said.
"And your orange necktie does not match very well with you plum robes."
Abbot blinked.
The two people who were with him snorted lightly at the Black lord's reply.
"I beg your pardon?"
Sirius smiled again, as unfriendly as before, even though he was perfectly polite and well mannered.
"So sorry, I thought we were talking about colors."
The Abbot lord stayed silent, unable to think of any comeback.
Meanwhile, Sirius had spotted someone rudely making their way towards him. He frowned, and as soon as he recognized a journalist from Witch Weekly, the young man evaded the upcoming words attack by entering the back room where he had to go before the beginning of the trial. Moody Jr. and Dawlish went in with him and closed the door behind them.
There were now eight persons in the little room: Sirius himself, the five aurors who had been assigned to him – since Savage was back from his trip to the hospital – Scrimgeour who had graced them with his presence and was looking intently at the Black lord, and an employee sitting behind a desk. The wizard looked up at him only once, and started checking paperwork.
"Ah, Lord Black. Right on time. You gave your wand for safekeeping at the reception, I believe? Good, good. Now, if you could sign here and here, there it is, thank you very much... Just wait a minute, I see you asked for the authentification and use of a truth serum?"
As the man talked, Sirius did as he was told. He felt an increasing need to throw the inkwell at Dawlish, who was upsetting nearly everyone as he mock-whispered what he surmised the outcome of the trial to be. Thankfully, the young lord could rein in the urge easily enough, and did nothing with it. But he would have loved to, no doubt about that.
Sirius took the form he had filled out two days before and verified it was the same. He certainly didn't want to have an official complaint later on because there had been an error in the documents.
"That's right. Sinemendatium."
And he handed said serum to the wizard for him to do what he had to do.
The man frowned a bit as he looked at the potion, knowing now for certain that it hadn't been a joke, and somehow the Black lord had found hellhounds' hairs. After that he opened the small red bottle, and poured ten drops in a wooden cap. Gulch pushed Dawlish aside to see better. She had always had a particular interest in potions, and sinemendatium wasn't one she had believed she'd ever get to see. The man searched for the right page in his book on truth serums, and when he found it, he put the tip of his wand right above the liquid and muttered a "Manifestatio" which turned it almost black. The serum began to sputter shimmering purple bubbles. The man nodded to himself, and took a dried tadpole which he dipped into the potion. The effects were immediate: the tadpole turned into a dice. Sirius didn't stop in search for any kind of logic in that.
The wizard ended the reaction with a clean finite incantatem, the dice rolled under the desk as Savage managed to ram his left foot against it, and Scrimgeour frowned as he wondered what exactly the Black lord was planning. It wasn't as if the man didn't have secrets to protect, even if he had really been innocent. Everybody had secrets. That was the exact reason why even the innocents usually didn't ask to further their defence with a truth potion.
And Scrimgeour knew that, no matter what Black was, whether he was guilty or innocent, no lord ever agreed to be questionned under a truth serum.
"All is well, Lord Black. Your potion is receivable, and as you requested, you'll be able to explain its utilization before the court. I must warn you, though, that sinemendatium is a tricky potion. As I'm sure you already know, my examination of it only ensure its authenticity and that no tampering has been done on it. However, the time frame this serum is viable is extremely short, and consuming it too late ends the same way it does when one drinks a tampered sinemendatium. I hope you are sure of its viability. Your life hangs in the balance, after all."
The wizard waved his wand one last time, over the bottle this time, and a plum-colored clip sealed it for later proof that the contents hadn't been changed between the check and the consumption.
Sirius took the bottle back and thanked the wizard, assuring once more there was nothing to fear from the serum. He ignored the gasps of horror he heard coming from the aurors as they understood why exactly he had interrupted Julian Swain two days before.
Before leaving the small room, the Ministry employee added:
"I will come before the Wizengamot to ascertain that this potion has been checked and found efficient. Then you'll get to talk, and after that, to drink it."
As soon as he was gone, Scrimgeour was at Sirius' throat, and it was unclear whether he wanted to throttle him or simply to shake him like a rag doll.
"What is it, Black? Do you think it clever, to use such a thing? What is it?! Did you find a way to tamper with the potion and think you'll get away with it? Maybe you'd like to get killed by this potion, and then everyone will claim it is our fault if you died? Well, no luck, Black, but you won't die today, and you'll spend the rest of your miserable life in a cell guarded by five dementors if I have anything to say about it!"
When Flume and Julius finally succeeded in making the Minister for Magic let go, Sirius was a bit disheveled, but he had an incredible smirk on his face.
"Minister, I am innocent. And I will prove it."
He took two step back from the angered wizard who had trouble keeping his calm.
"Azkaban will see no more of me."
Scrimgeour looked murderous, but he left without another word. The aurors exchanged equivocal glances. Sirius straightened his hair back in place, and waited. His smile never left his lips after this incident, and until the employee from before came back and told him it was time.
The young lord got up, stretched, and passed the door heading to the courtroom, now open.
Unlike for Harry's disciplinary farce, Sirius was in one of the courtrooms currently used. The place was dark, well-lit but with walls of black stone, which looked a bit blue under the light of a huge chandelier that was hanging from the ceiling. The light didn't reach the depth of all the niches.
Everyone was already inside.
The members of the Wizengamot all had their plum-colored robes on, the Lords and Ladies of the Noble and Ancient Houses as well as the appointed representatives of the Ministry and the people. Scrimgeour and his Advisor, his Senior Undersecretary and his Junior Assistant were sitting on the benches right behind the desk of the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Pius Thicknesse. Dumbledore wasn't at his usual seat, the place of Chief Warlock having been offered for this special occasion to a witch well-known for her impartiality, Emilia Croyne. The woman was in her sixties, and had always been Dumbledore's replacement when the headmaster had been unable to preside the trials he was supposed to attend – that was, those for which the whole Wizengamot was called, such as Sirius'. Thirty-two heads of House were sitting on the benches on the other side of the room. Of course, the seats of the Black lord, the Lestranges', the Drennans', the Gaunts' and the Potters' were empty. The seven representatives of the people, designated for a two years period, were sitting on the row of benches below the lords' and ladies'.
In front of the accused, whose chair was in the back of the room and only one foot away from the dark wall, were the spectators. Just to make sure they stayed silent, there was a permanent silencing charm cast on the seats, which caused any sound produced there to disappear. The Wizengamot had decided it necessary after an argument between two spectators that had gotten out of hand in 1842. Now, unless they knew sign language, the spectators could try to talk, they wouldn't be able to even begin an argument. Some thought it abusive. Others thought it necessary.
The first row of benches in the spectators' gallery was reserved to the family of the defendant, and Harry was there, with Andromeda, Ted, Dora, and, surprisingly, Narcissa, who stayed as far way as she could from her niece. Still, Sirius could see some envy on her face as she glanced at her sister, and fear as she looked back at the heads of House on her left. Even coming here, and sitting on the benches reserved to the family, had certainly been a difficult decision to make.
Sirius shot a searing glare at Lord Goyle, who was not-so-discreetly growling at his cousin. The man wasn't much brighter than his predecessor, and the only reason he wasn't in Azkaban with his dear friend Crabbe was that he hadn't been sent by Voldepants to the Department of Mysteries. It took only three seconds for the man to feel the death glare he was on the receiving end of, and once their eyes met, the Lord of the House of Goyle suddenly looked elsewhere.
Andromeda smirked in her seat as she saw this.
Harry waved discreetly at his godfather, completely ill-at-ease with the many looks he had been getting. But now that the man of the day had come in, people weren't so interested in him anymore, and the teenager felt a bit better, even though at Sirius' expense. The Black lord didn't seem to mind at all, in fact.
Sirius' eyes then went to the higher benches, and he rolled his eyes as he saw journalists in sheer number. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was certainly already regretting having made the trial public, but if they hadn't, they'd have had to deal with the newfound desire for knowledge of the wizarding community about the Black case.
Still, he smiled genuinely when he locked eyes with Mad-Eye, Remus, Hermione Granger and the Weasleys, who had all come for the occasion. Augusta, Neville and Alice Longbottom had joined them, and the photojournalists were all trying to get a good shot of the former auror.
He was glad they had come for him, and he only hoped he wouldn't disappoint them.
At least, not by going back to Azkaban.
As a human being, it was another story.
Sirius looked back to the Houses' tribune.
lords and ladies were there, all of them – except those who were in Azkaban and didn't have any family to take the headship. Sirius was pleased to notice that Septimus Malfoy had taken over Lucius' Lordship. The man, at least, wasn't a blood supremacist, even if he was a bit prejudiced. If he remembered well, the wizard had a squib son...
There had been many changes in headship after the arrest of the Death Eaters during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Macnair, Avery and Nott had been their Houses' lords, and with their imprisonment, they had been replaced by other family members. Those he knew, yet couldn't prove, to be Death Eaters were either sneering at Sirius, or furiously avoiding his gaze.
The Lord of the House of Black gave them his most freezing smile, and no one taunted him with a snide look again. They didn't like remembering that he was not on their side and a Black. Too dangerous an enemy, too powerful an opponent – better to ignore it.
Towards the lords and ladies whom he appreciated, Sirius only nodded in acceptance of their judgment. Theodore Rowle and the newly returned Frank Longbottom were there...
Last but not least, Sirius Black looked at the ones who were supposed to lead this audience.
Then he sat in the seat of the accused.