The trial begins. I don't know if you'll like it. But I really needed to see Sirius get everything he had off his chest and shove it in everyone's faces. So it's mostly him talking, and the reactions. I think the trial will last for about three chapters. I hope you'll like it. If not... Well, good luck with that. I want to write it, and I'll do it.
Also, I'm aware it certainly doesn't follow the trial procedure of any country. But this is the Wizengamot court, and not a court we know of. If anything, I'll quote Hagrid and his "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. " Which means, wizards don't live as we do.
Hermione also said wizards usually weren't logical. At all.
And lastly, imagine Draco's reaction to being compared to muggles and their ways.
Anyway, the only glimpse we had of audiences and trials in HP are either too short, or twisted ones. We can't say much from the memories of the Death Eaters' trials, and for Harry's disciplinary audience... well, the Chief Warlock had been dismissed, and Fudge was trying to burry Harry's side of the story. I don't believe that is a good example of the usual procedures.
Chapter 15: The weight of their mistakes
Emilia Croyne went to the seat of the Chief Warlock. Looking uninterested, she glanced at Albus Dumbledore, the actual Chief Warlock, and wondered why exactly the old wizard had deemed it inappropriate for him to preside this trial. Yes, everyone knew he personally was in favor of the Black lord, but she trusted him not to let it matter. And it wasn't as if the Chief Warlock had any part to play in the sentencing.
Croyne looked around the room she was facing, and at the people who were waiting intently for her to begin the audience.
Lastly, her eyes fell on Sirius Black, who was looking her in the eyes.
She could see sheer determination in those eyes.
The question was, determination about what?
The witch cleared her throat, took the gavel and made it sound through the room.
"Trial of Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the House of Black, fourth audience, concerning the treason of James, Lily and Harry Potter to a specific dark lord no one is willing to name. As requested by the defendant, the charges will concern not only the said treason, but also other offenses, so that the number of trials will not be piling up. In compensation to the short notice of such a trial, an agreement has been reached with the defendant that he will not be held accountable for any known offense which may be forgotten to be considered during the trial."
Some amongst the public eyed the accused warily, but he only gave them a lazy smile to think upon. The witch couldn't say she approved of the bargain that had been made with Black, for it could let him get away with many things if he succeeded in confusing everyone, which he certainly was going to do. But at the same time, she understood. She had been appalled when she had heard of the short notice of the trial. What Scrimgeour was doing was... disloyal.
Sirius Black had been jailed for years, chased down for months, and finally unconscious for days, and he was given, what, five days? – to prepare for a trial which would determine his fate? That was simply scandalous.
The man was only ensuring that the Ministry wouldn't argue in the near future over what would have been decided. He could be trying to save his hide. Or maybe he was plainly watching his back.
Such a short notice wasn't reglementary and the Black lord could have protested. But he hadn't, and for that, Scrimgeour owed him one. The Minister for Magic could consider himself lucky the accused had requested only that.
Croyne locked her gaze with Sirius Black's, not that he had tried to avoid it before. She had a pretty dumb question to ask now, but it was the procedure.
"Are you Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the House of Black?"
The wizard answered her calmly, and no one would have thought the outcome of this trial really mattered, when looking at him. As if he was confident enough... or didn't care in the least.
"Yes. My name is indeed Sirius Orion Black."
"It is to my understanding that you asked for the use of a truth potion during this trial, Lord Black. Do you still wish to proceed?"
Several gasps were heard from the lords and ladies sitting at Emilia Croyne's right. She didn't bother looking at them. She had a good enough idea of why they'd be reacting like that. Hell, she had reacted just the same way when she had been presented the request.
Lords didn't approve of the use of truth serums in trial. They never had, never did, and never would.
And still, Sirius Black had decided that the truth was worth it, in a way.
Croyne gestured for someone to open a door, and the employee who had authenticated the potion earlier went in, asked the Black lord for the bottle, confirmed that the seal hadn't been broken since his examination of the potion, and assured everyone of the validity of the sinemendatium.
Croyne noticed the shifting in the public, though, obviously, she couldn't hear a thing of what was uselessly muttered there. Those who knew about the potion were surely wondering where Black had gotten hellhounds' hairs.
The substitute Chief Warlock then looked at the accused, enjoining him silently to make his speech about the serum he was going to use. After all, the man had asked to do it himself, and they didn't have all day.
Well, maybe they did, it was an important trial, after all...
Sirius stood from his chair, and gave the room a circular look before slowly raising his hand, and in his hand, the small bottle of sinemendatium.
"This is a truth potion called sinemendatium. Some of you may think it isn't possible for me to have it, since the potion quickly lose all powers, in a matter of hours, actually, and one of the main ingredients has disappeared from the surface of the Earth decades ago. But the truth is, hellhounds are not instinct. There are some left in Transylvania... and at Black Manor."
The wizard smirked as the eyes of a journalist almost bulged out of his face.
More accurately, he smirked inwardly.
Hell, he loved it when he made people speechless.
"Now, to move on onto more serious issues, I wish to warn you about my use of this truth potion. Firstly, it is in no way a guarantee of truthfulness. Sinemendatium, unlike veristaserum, does not force one to answer truthfully to any question. What this particular potion do is making you unable to lie. But you can still hold back truths. You can twist the words in making them sound better, and yet no less true. You can't hold for honest what I will reveal under its power. Yet you can hold it for true."
The young lord caught the eyes of some doubtful spectators, who, if not for the silencing charm, would have told him their opinion on the subject in an angry tone.
"It is one of the reasons I chose this potion over veritaserum. We all have things we would rather keep secret, and which have nothing to do with our presence here. Veritaserum invades your privacy, sinemendatium does not. But it isn't the only reason I asked for it: sinemendatium is also extremely fickle. If one drinks a potion which is over twenty-three hours of making, or if one drink a tampered potion, one will, plainly said, 'drop dead'. 'One' being, in this particular case, myself."
People were taking notes, making sure to research the truthfulness of his words once the trial would be finished, as if they couldn't trust the expertise of the Ministry employee from earlier.
Sirius didn't glance to the lords of slytherin schooling, but he would have loved to. He had to appear uncaring, and for that, he couldn't go around all good-natured and loving the butterflies.
Still, he could see, in the corner of his eye, how those snakes took his strategy. Many of them were growing uncomfortable, as they understood what he was doing. They didn't like it. They didn't like the way he was capturing even their attention. They didn't like feeling that he had grabbed a hold over them, even when they were aware of what he was doing. They didn't like how easily one could fall to the young Lord Black.
"You can be certain this potion has not been tampered with, for I am far from being suicidal. And even if I was, you'll see it for yourself. I will tell you the truth, and nothing else. But I ask you to remember that nothing will force me to say the whole truth. I ask you to remember that there is always a way, maybe unknown as of yet, but real, and so discoverable, to tamper with a truth serum. I ask you to hold onto your mistrust. Why, you may ask. The reason is simple. We are not in a time of peace, and foolish trust will save no one in the future."
Sirius looked at the heads of Houses as he spoke, but he wasn't talking to them only. Since he was here, since so many people were listening to him, for once, he could at least try to make them understand.
"I want your trust. I want to be believed. I want my liberty back. I want what I deserve, what everybody deserves when they come to life, whether they are purebloods or muggleborns, halfbloods or even muggles and squibs. We are human, magic or not. We are alive, and we deserve to stay so as long as fate deems it necessary."
Some people shifted on their seat. Surely ones who felt mixed about their prejudices, not quite sure where they stood, on which side of the bridge they were. Individuals who, most of the time, worked against their prejudices, trying, oh really, trying to ignore them, to act without them, not to let them be known to everyone, but in the end, who still were prejudiced. They knew it, they fought it, and sometimes, rarely of course, time and proofs that they weren't better or lesser than anyone else closed the gap of partiality in their heart. Let the bias disappear with time and reason.
"I want real trust for me and my story. And for you to trust me, I guess honesty is the only solution. This truth serum is a given of my good will, but I don't want you to believe I rely on it only. I will tell you the truth, and you will listen to me, this time."
Unlike what you did the other time.
And so he did drink the sinemendatium, and turned the bottle upside down for everyone to see it was now empty. Then he sat down.
Croyne cleared her throat and gathered the public's attention once again.
"The three previous sessions of this trial were dedicated to hearing out the testimonies of various individuals regarding the events which will now be judged. The charges against the accused shall now be read into the record: that the accused did with deliberation and fore-knowledge of the illegality of his actions give away the secret of which he was the keeper to Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, leading to the death of James and Lily Potter, Lord and Consort of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, and the attempted murder of their son Harry, on the thirty-first of October, 1981. That the accused did kill the wizard Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles within full sight of other muggles with a blasting spell, on the first of November, 1981. That the accused did escape from Azkaban prison when he had been sentenced to life imprisonment, on the twenty-third of July, 1993. That the accused did trespass onto Hogwarts grounds several times during the following year. That the accused did escape from governmental custody, on the sixth of June, 1994. That the accused did kill the witch Bellatrix Lestrange with the use of the Dark Arts, on the eighteenth of June, 1996."
The witch looked up from her list of charges and met Sirius' eyes.
He smiled.
This was going to be so much fun...
"Sirius Black, do you plead guilty or not guilty when confronted with those accusations?"
The young lord shifted to be more comfortably seated.
"I plead not guilty concerning the following offenses: I did not betray James and Lily Potter; I did not kill Peter, though I had every intention to do so; I did not kill twelve muggles, though I had intended to use magic within full sight of muggles."
Sirius paused there, and looked at his audience. He was a bit curious to see the reactions of those who had denied him any form of defense, years ago. But he couldn't afford to look hopeful or even interested. It might have endangered his strategy...
And it wasn't a big deal.
He wasn't hopeful.
He wasn't interested.
At least, not in the way they'd think him to be.
At best, he could be said to be curious.
At worst, he could be considered vengeful.
He wanted to see their confidence in the rightness of their decisions collapse. He wanted to see their complacency waver, and eventually sink under the weight of their mistakes. He wanted those people to feel the shame they had tried to cast upon him when they had thought him a traitor.
They might not have faith in the use of a truth serum. They may try to explain his declarations of innocence on the mind arts. They could not trust his honesty.
He didn't care.
He was right. They were wrong. He was loyal. They had been wrong. And if he was to be sent back to Azkaban, then they would remain wrong and there was nothing he could do about it.
Well, he could do nothing to force their brains to see the truth in his eyes, but he could force them to see the truth in the facts.
Sirius carved their faces, all of them, into his memory. He engraved the disbelieving, the condescending, the hateful and the calculating faces to remember them later, once they'd have understood how wrong they had aways been about him, how he had humiliated their beliefs for some of them, how much he hated them, and still, how he was willing to look past the hatred they had given him. He incised the insure faces, to make sure he wouldn't be so harsh with those who had, at least, believed he could maybe be saying the truth. He etched the accusing faces of those who had faith in him and were always more angry as they heard and saw the faces of the others, even if he could see concern in their eyes, for he wanted to witness them smile at the end, and he wanted to see this particular worry leave their faces.
"I plead guilty of escaping from a prison where I wasn't even a proper convict. I plead guilty of entering Hogwarts grounds in the search of the traitor who stole the lives of my best friends, the childhood of my godson, and twelve years of my liberty, to prevent him from further damaging the aforementioned godson's life. I plead guilty of escaping the clutch of a government that refused to even hear me out and had decided I was to be given the dementor's Kiss. I plead guilty of defending my life with the Dark Arts and thus ending the life of my attacker."
Harry listened to his godfather, and felt strange. Since Sirius had started talking, he had noticed that almost everyone was reacting strongly to his speech. Some were shifting on their seats. Others were visibly tensing. And the ones who believed in Sirius were either very surprised by his gift in leading his audience wherever he wanted, or smiling a bit smugly. Andromeda Black was one of those, and her smirk was oddly comforting.
She wasn't the most disturbing person on their bench, though. Harry could clearly see Narcissa Malfoy trying to hide a fond smile as she listened to her cousin. And he didn't miss how each time her lips tugged into a visible smile, fully letting go of the unpleasant scowl he had noticed during the World Cup, the witch glanced worriedly at the tribune of the lords and morphed her face back into a mask of coldness.
That was disturbing, really.
Harry looked back at Sirius, who was serious as hell and whose gaze seemed to be poisonous for some reason, as most people had started sweating each time his eyes fell on them.
The young lord Black turned once again to Emilia Croyne and a smile with no warmth pervaded his handsome face. In a way, Harry was reminded of his first impression of the Slytherins, back during his Sorting.
"I am guilty of saving my own life from a Ministry of Magic which wanted me dead without reason, from a demented cousin with whom I was accused of conspiring, when she'd rather have seen me dead than in the same room as her. If being willing to live is a crime, then I plead guilty ten times over. If refusing to be thrown away and hated without reason is a crime, then I am guilty."
And if that wasn't an accusation, then Emilia Croyne had never heard one.
She was going to start asking him for specifics. After all, it was the very reason they were here this day, to do what should have been done almost a decade and a half ago, and still had never been granted to this man, Sirius Orion Black.
But he raised a hand, and Croyne arched an eyebrow while inviting him to talk once again.
Sirius took a deep breath, and avoided looking at Harry. He wasn't proud of everything he had done, and he was even less proud that some of those things left him indifferent when he knew he should have been ashamed. But he had told this court he'd be honest, and honesty was what he'd be giving them.
His eyes finally locked with Dumbledore's. The old wizard was sitting on the second bench, on the left of the spectators' tribunes. He looked tense, knowing full well they were now entering a dangerous area.
What the young lord was about to say was important. How he'd explain it afterwards was more important. How they'd take it was unpredictable.
"However, those are not the only offenses I am guilty of."
Whispers rose from the lords' and ladies' tribunes. If there hadn't been a silencing charm on the spectators' tribune, nothing would have been heard anymore. People were getting agitated, some completely puzzled, others blinking and pinching themselves to make sure they were awake and hadn't misunderstood what had been said.
What kind of idiot admitted to having commited a crime they had never been accused of at their own trial?
What kind of genius dared to give away all their cards?
What kind of defendant was honest enough to hold nothing back?
Emilia Croyne squinted at the Black lord, then watched over the courtroom. She had to say, either Black was crazy, or he was innocent and knew what he was doing. Personally, she'd bet it was both.
If Sirius Black was trying to earn the public's trust, he was doing it the right way. Now, the question was, would he say everything, or was he only going to let one thing out to distract the members of the Wizengamot while the worst crimes would remain hidden?
Black couldn't lie, now that he had drunk the sinemendatium, and he wouldn't be able to for the next twenty-three hours. But he could keep things to himself. He wasn't forced to answer any question, and certainly not one that had not been asked.
"I don't want you to believe I'm an angel, because I am not, and I refuse to play the part of a perfect man. I have flaws. I can be cruel. I can make mistakes. I can hate, and I am able to do the worst. I am no angel. But it doesn't mean I'm a demon either. I am human."
As he said that, Sirius stared intently at the temporary Chief Warlock, who only returned his gaze evenly. He quite liked that witch, she did her job as it should be done.
"I am guilty of illegally attaining a form of magic which has to be registered with the Ministry. I am guilty of attempted murder as a minor. I am guilty of seven uses of the Dark Arts on human beings, one of those being the use of an Unforgivable."
Ah.
He certainly had not left aside the worst offenses, or if he had, Emilia Croyne was having a hard time imagining what else he could have done that no one had any idea of.
The witch still wasn't sure if Sirius Black was a genius or an idiot, but she was certain he was courageous. No, that was beyond bravery. She didn't even have a word to qualify what he had just done. And had he really confessed to using an Unforgivable?
Forget a genius, forget an idiot, the Black lord was insane.
A family trait, they said.
It'd be great if every criminal was as honest as he was, though. Their job would be so much easier...
Sirius smirked as he watched the pandemonium he had caused in the courtroom.
The spectators were all silent, sure, but they didn't have a choice in the matter. Most of them were looking at him stupidly, wide-eyed or rubbing their eyes.
His friends were gaping at him, and he simply shrugged. They certainly thought he was becoming crazy. He met the eyes of the other members of the Order, and was disappointed to see that most of them were scowling at him. Disappointed, but not surprised. He had guessed they'd react like that, after all, and he didn't blame them. He hadn't explained, yet. If they still looked at him as if he had the plague, or worse, as if he was a plague, after his explanations, then he'd be angry with them.
If Snape had been here, he'd certainly be eyeing him warily.
His eyes then went to Eleanor Rowle, who wasn't letting any emotion bypass her soft smile. Sirius wasn't sure whether or not it was good news. Well, he'd just have to hope she was keeping her judgement for later.
Surprisingly enough, he saw Andromeda and Narcissa share a smirk, before blinking as they realized what they had done, and moving away from each other a bit more. Dora was silently arguing with another member of the Order of the Phoenix sitting behind her, though Sirius was astonished that none of the two had given up yet, seeing as no sound could escape their lips...
Harry... Harry was difficult to look at, but when he gathered the courage to do so, the young lord felt relieved.
Sure, Harry wasn't looking as secure as before, and his smile was weakening, but he still looked him in the eyes. It gave Sirius hope.
Then he looked at the heads of Houses, and wasn't surprised to see Frank making faces at him, as if to shut him up from afar. He ignored the Longbottom lord. Theodore Rowle, on the other hand, was frowning slightly, but he didn't look really worried or anything. As a good Slytherin, he had picked up on the fact that, even if many were scowling at the Black lord after his declarations, no one was actually questioning his honesty. Others lords and ladies were whispering together, but louder than before.
A short minute went by, and Emilia Croyne hit her desk with the gavel to regain everyone's attention. Then she turned to the accused.
"Do you realize what you just admitted?"
Sirius smiled politely.
"Believe me, Madam Croyne, I do. Normally, the simple mention of an Unforgivable would send me right back to Azkaban. But I can assure you that this one won't. That is, if this time, you let me talk, and don't simply haul me away without even asking which curse it was."
A snort was heard, and Sirius could have sworn it was coming from Scrimgeour.
"Anyway, you'll forgive me if I was being quite vague as to the exact nature of two of those three offenses, but I have to build up suspense. All will be said, unless something is forgotten on the way, and if that's the case, as we agreed, I won't be accountable for it anymore."
Second snort from the Minister. People were starting to look at him oddly, and Croyne was preparing herself to tell off Scrimgeour, one thing she'd rather not do. But Sirius turned slightly to look at the Minister, and tilted his head a bit. His smile grew cold once again, and the chill traveled to his silver eyes.
The ones who were next to the Minister for Magic shifted in their seats. Scrimgeour himself was feeling uncomfortable. He held the Black lord's stare, for he was the Minister and couldn't back away. But he didn't like it one bit. There was something about this man, that gave him the feeling he could rip him apart and walk away without a second thought.
When Sirius Black looked back at the substitute Chief Warlock, the Minister felt as if a terrible weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Scrimgeour hadn't looked away, and he knew that, but Black's calm demeanor during his ordeal told him he certainly hadn't won either. Black was conceding him this victory, and nothing else.
Emilia Croyne sent the trial back on track.
"Lord Black, you plead not guilty of blasting a street and killing Peter Pettigrew. Yet, when the aurors found you at the crime scene, they described you as laughing manically over the bodies of the dead. If you weren't the one who did it, then who did? Why did you react so? Why haven't you defended yourself, that is, not before the following day, when no one wanted to listen anymore, given the evidence?"
Sirius did something no one expected. Well, no one, except Dumbledore, maybe, because the old wizard seemed to always know what was going on in people's heads. And even when he didn't and was surprised, his surprise gave the feeling he wasn't so surprised...
Anyway, Sirius laughed.
He laughed at the question, soflty, coldly, hatefully.
And those who ignored the truth in the audience froze. The members of the Order of the Phoenix smiled spitefully, thinking of Pettigrew and what would happen to him if Sirius managed to catch him one day. They had forgotten, for now at least, their wariness towards their fellow member. The Death Eaters who were attending felt a chill running down their spines, and they didn't like it at all. For a second, they almost forgot he wasn't one of them, and for the following minute, they shivered as they remembered that Sirius Black was not only not on their side, but also their ennemy. Once again, they were reminded why they hated it so much, why they hated him so much.
Sirius Black was to be feared by those who went against him.
"I was laughing because the whole situation was so damn ridiculous."
Croyne blinked.
"I beg your pardon? Ridiculous?"
"That's what I said."
"Your godson had become an orphan during the night, two of your best friends had been killed, a large dozen of people were dead at your feet, and you call that ridiculous?"
Sirius smiled, and again, everyone could see there was no real warmth behind that smile. It was more hateful than anything else. A smile full of self-hatred.
"Ridiculous, yes. The blasted rat had outsmarted me! He had been the traitor, he had been the culprit, he had been the one to buy his survival with the lives of his friends, and I had seen nothing. He had been right under my nose this whole time, but I had dismissed him for he was too unimportant, too weak to be taken into account. I had searched for that damned traitor, we were suspecting one another, the trust I had in the three first friends I ever made was shattering, and he was there. He was there, and I had seen nothing! I'd been suspecting the wrong friend, because that one, the one who had sold us out, he seemed too insignificant to even catch the eye of the enemy. How wrong I was!"
People were exchanging disbelieving glances, unsure of who was the "rat" the Black lord was talking about. Those who knew kept silent, their faces closed.
Harry was thinking that while his godfather was having quite an effect on his audience, Sirius was being way too cheerful about the whole thing. The calm before the storm...
Well, cheerful was a bit too merry an adjective, but still. The teenager could hear the sarcasm oozing out of the words. Sirius was... He was distancing himself from the guilt, if only in words and appearance. Away from his guilt. And all that was left was the hatred for Pettigrew.
Such hatred.
Harry looked at the people around him.
They couldn't hear the hatred. Or rather, they couldn't yet understand what it was. They felt it was wrong. It was written on their face. They felt it, but they didn't know yet. Sirius looked too haughty for now. Supercilious, maybe. Disturbing, surely.
But not frightening. Not yet.
Harry had seen him dark, once. He had seen his godfather about to murder the traitor. He had seen him clothed in rags, thinner than death itself, with sunken cheeks and dirty hair. He had seen the madness and the hurt.
The teenager wondered what a dark Sirius would look like in full possession of his faculties.
He had a feeling he wouldn't have to wait long to witness it.
"I was laughing, because I had lost everything. I had tried to play smart, and it had been a good enough plan, but I was too full of myself, I was looking too far way, already aiming, but careless about my surroundings. I had forgotten one didn't have to be strong and clever to be of use to the Dark Bastard. I had forgotten one didn't have to be mighty to fall and betray."
The smile had disappeared from Sirius Black's face, and already the audience was missing it. They had thought it disturbing and unpleasant to look at, as if they were being mocked. Now they missed it, because without this smile, the Black lord looked simply about to kill someone.
Those who had known Bellatrix Lestrange suddenly found themselves fully appreciating their kinship. They couldn't say they liked the feeling.
"I was simply thinking it was awfully ridiculous. Bested by Peter Pettigrew! A friend whom I had protected for years. I should have let him to be bullied by the Slytherins in our first year, and maybe they'd have beaten the life out of him one day or another. A pity, really."
On the first bench, Narcissa and Andromeda were nodding together without realizing it. They might not have minded the boy, but they had never liked the man he had grown into, Houses business not even taken into account.
It wasn't even that Peter Pettigrew had been a bad person, before his treason. It was simply that he hadn't been friends with people he could measure up to. Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Sirius Black. They had been braver, stronger, brighter than he would ever be, and that wasn't his fault. But it had made him a liability. No matter how much he'd have wanted to be like his friends, he couldn't have – and hadn't – given them as much as they had been ready to give him.
Up in the darkness of the room, above the chandelier, Bellatrix was glowing slightly, as any other ghost would have done. She refrained a chuckle as she looked at her sisters reacting exactly the same way. She didn't want to attract attention, not yet, and luckily everyone had been so busy staring at Sirius they hadn't noticed the faint grey mist irradiating a shy light right under the ceiling.
Sirius had such a thing for theatrics! The public was already under his thumb, no matter their ideas on his guilt or innocence. They wanted more. They wanted to know.
And they would know.
And they would wish they didn't.
They would wish the Black lord had kept them in the dark, that he had never told them how terrible they had been towards him. They would be ashamed.
And hopefully, Sirius would feel a bit better.
"Peter Pettigrew?"
Croyne couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Like everyone else, she had read the Quibbler's article, but still, she hadn't believed it all. She had always thought there had been more to it – and she wasn't wrong, then again, they hadn't said everything. Harry Potter hadn't told how his godfather had escaped from Azkaban, and it was the sensible thing to do. After all, they didn't want Black to be captured again.
Harry Potter had only said two things about Black, too busy with warning everyone about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return. It wasn't as if anyone would just believe him if he had said the whole truth about the Black lord. So he had said two things: Black was innocent, and Pettigrew was alive and a traitor.
And somehow, Emilia Croyne had believed there had been some secret behind all this. That maybe, Pettigrew was alive, that maybe, Pettigrew was a traitor, but that somehow, there was more to it, something that would explain how Peter Pettigrew of all people had been able to best Sirius Black.
Sirius snorted, and ignored her for the time being.
"So yes, I laughed. I was having one of these things, called nervous breakdowns. I wasn't in any state to defend myself."
The young lord frowned as he said this. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't quite right. So he amended.
"I beg your pardon. I would have been able to defend myself if I had wanted. But all I wanted, was to die. I had lost everything. My younger brother was an indoctrinated idiot. A dead, indoctrinated idiot. My family was full of fanatics. My surrogate family, the Potters, was dead and gone. My best friends were a dead man, a traitor, and one who thought me to be the traitor. Voldepants was gone, so I had nothing and no one to fight against. The war I had wanted to see put to an end for so long had ended, but now that I could live, I had nothing to live for."
Sirius looked guiltily at his godson, and no one missed the look in his eyes. He was sorry, so sorry.
"But that wasn't the truth. I had one thing left to live for. One person. One child. And when I realized it... Someone spat in my face."
Strangely, many people averted their eyes when he looked pointedly around.
Sirius arched an eyebrow, starting to calm down as he wasn't talking about the rat anymore. His smirk was almost back on his face. Almost, because he knew he'd have to go back to this disheartening topic before long.
Damned rat.
"It was too late. I tried to talk once, and someone spat in my face. I never tried again."
Not that anyone had come to listen to his side of the story.
Then he turned back to Emilia Croyne.
"As for your question, yes, Peter Pettigrew. It was so simple, no one ever thought of him when we wondered about the traitor amongst us."
"You say 'us', but you're not talking about aurors."
Sirius gave the substitute Chief Warlock a short laugh.
"Of course not. Peter wasn't good enough at dueling to make a half-decent auror. No, I'm talking about the Order of the Phoenix."
Some lords whispered at that, and the members of the Order rolled their eyes in the tribunes. It wasn't as if anyone didn't know the Black lord had been a member. He had been a target since the beginning, so he hadn't felt necessary to hide that he was openly fighting against Voldemort.
As he hadn't deemed it necessary to talk about Voldemort with something more respectful than "Voldepants" or "the Dark Bastard". Not that Voldemort deserved any respect. But it could have been seen as wise to just call him "Voldemort".
But anyway, they all knew Sirius already had a target painted on his back.
"We were all part of the Order, James, Lily, Remus, me... Peter! And we knew there was a mole amongst us. We simply didn't know who. We couldn't figure it out. We knew Voldepants wanted the Potters. So we secured them. So we put their house under a Fidelius charm. And we told everyone I was the Secret Keeper. We told everyone, even Remus, even Dumbledore, because I didn't trust anyone anymore. No one except the Potters, who wouldn't sell themselves to the Dark Bastard, and Peter, because he was a friend, and he wasn't likely to catch the eye of the enemy."
Sirius snorted again in self-derision. It was the best he could do to not to curse the rat all the way to the next millenium. And since the rat wasn't anywhere near...
"For it'd have been stupid to make Peter the Secret Keeper. No sane person would have given such a responsibility to someone so weak. And it was the exact reason why I had thought of him for this task. I was too obvious. Everyone can bend to torture, one day or another. And if I had killed myself to keep the secret safe, the secret would have gone to all those who had heard it from me, only increasing the number of people able to divulge it. It was better to act as a dummy. I could still die of it, but I couldn't betray, even under the hand of the most experienced torturer."
Up there, Bellatrix tipped an imaginary hat, a fake smile on her lips. She knew Sirius was talking about her. Who else? It was the truth.
It didn't make her feel any better.
"Peter told me, two years ago, just before he escaped again, that he did it out of self-preservation. A wonder he was in Gryffindor, really. He saw he had no chance of surviving by standing by our side. So he bought his own life with ours. Dorcas Meadowes, Edgar Bones, the Prewett brothers, Marlene McKinnon, Benjamin Fenwick... How many of us died because of the pieces of intel Peter gave away?"
Sirius turned to the lords and ladies. He saw Lord Bones. He saw Lady Prewett. They were there, sitting. Listening. And their faces were hard.
Edgar and Amelia's brother, Malthus. Molly's cousin Esther.
The House of Prewett, at least, would soon change its name for another, just like, centuries before, the House of Darke had become the House of Black. The First War had killed the two male heirs.
Sirius' eyes met Arthur's, amongst the spectators. The older man closed his eyes. He knew what was coming.
"Interesting how some of them were purebloods."
The supremacists, known and unknown, tensed.
Yes, the dark lord had gone after purebloods. But they were blood traitors. So it had been justified.
Right?
Croyne cleared her throat, and Sirius looked back at her.
"Why should we believe you when you say out of your two friendships, it was Peter Pettigrew's which ultimately lacked? Why shouldn't we believe that it was yours? Pettigrew isn't here to defend himself. Actually, nothing tells us he is alive. And you were the one with the blood of the most infamous House of Black. Peter Pettigrew was only a halfblood with no name, no riches, no place in a pureblooded society. You were the one who could gain everything from treachery."
Emilia Croyne didn't believe what she was implying. But she had to ask.
Sirius' face hardened.
"Yes. I was the Black heir. I am one of the wizards with the oldest blood. I could have had everything. And still, I left. And still, I denied my wretched family when I was only sixteen years old. I left the house. I was burned off the tapestry. My parents disowned me as their son. My mother carved the words 'blood traitor' upon my heart with her wand and black magic before shutting the door behind me. And yet, I could have gone to my grandfather, the Black lord of these times, and he would have taken me in."
The audience watched as the young lord's hand went to his heart. They watched as he dug his fingers in his clothes, not even looking at his actions, not even aware of what he was doing.
Or at least, it seemed that way.
Because the truth, Remus and the Blacks knew it, the truth was that Sirius had allowed his body to act this way, before forgetting about it as it was of no importance. He had allowed them to see.
"But I didn't. I went to James, the first friend I ever had. I went to James' parents."
Sirius Black was allowing so many people to see and hear about the truth of his family.
"And they took me in. Do you really think I'd have betrayed this family so easily?"