Albus struggled not to let any of his confusion show.
Luckily, the court was too busy panicking and screaming to pay him any attention, which was why he waited a moment to gather his bearings before calling for silence. A flailing Sirius was all but hauled out of the courtroom, whatever happiness his freedom had brought him squandered by his cousin's appearance.
When the crowd continued to ignore him, he raised his wand, letting loose a bang so deafening it made the Minister's gavel sound like a ticking clock in comparison. Curiously, the Minister appeared even more vacant than usual, and Albus quickly surmised that something was amiss.
"Ah..." mumbled Cornelius, who like the rest of the assembly clutched his ringing head. "Thank you, Mister Dumbledore."
"Bloody hell! You miserable old coot! Any louder and you'd have ruptured my eardrums!"
Bellatrix, no less charming than she'd been as a student, glared at him hatefully. There was madness in her eyes, and yet, Albus could see that something had tempered it. After all, the witch had been in his presence for several minutes and not flung a single curse his way.
"Bella... let us be done with this."
It was barely more than a whisper, and still, Goku Black's voice was carried clearly across the room. He spoke softly, with a strange, unplaceable lilt, not entirely out of place amongst the upper echelon of society.
Albus had never heard of an individual by that name, but a false identity was the least of his concerns. The fact that the pair was confident enough to walk inside a courtroom and attempt to clear Bellatrix' name legally was downright terrifying.
And why were both of them wearing muggle attire?
"Of course, dear husband."
Bellatrix made sure to walk slowly towards the chair, enjoying herself immensely. The Wizengamot, pathetic as always, could not overcome their fear of her despite outnumbering her fifty-to-one.
Watching the stuck-up fools tremble in their plum-colored robes was no small source of amusement, and their nervous muttering at her statement had laughter bubbling in the back of her throat.
The witch let out a high, raspy cackle, before throwing herself in the chair and letting chains and shackles bind her. The Lord stood behind her, his hands resting atop her shoulders, and looking up she found that he too seemed amused, the corner of his lips twitching ever-so-slightly.
"Aurors, administer the Veritaserum," ordered the Minister. He was such a delightful puppet, and pride welled up in Bellatrix' chest - it had been her idea to place him under the Imperius curse.
The potion was forced down her throat, neither feeling nor tasting any differently from water. It was supposed to be that way, but in this case it was in fact water, courtesy of her husband's strange magic.
Taking a leaf out of Xenophilius Lovegood's book, Bellatrix allowed her eyes to wander and her expression to float. It was surprisingly easy, and she wondered just how much of her old classmate's daydreaming had been real.
"State your name," said Dumbledore.
"Bellatrix Black."
"Not Lestrange?"
"Not anymore."
Bellatrix repressed the urge to grin violently, glad to be rid of the pig that was her former husband. Her only regret was not personally disposing of the man.
"Are you, or have you ever been, a servant of Lord Voldemort?"
"No."
Dumbledore's eyes flashed with anger, and she barely had time to register the court's cry of outrage when her head split open with a pain so intense that it bordered on her old master's Cruciatus.
A half-groan, half-chuckle escaped Bellatrix' throat, full of agony, commending the old man for daring to violate her mind in such a brazen manner. The Lord's hands still rested on her shoulders, and she knew Dumbledore would find her memories lacking.
"You stand accused of multiple charges of theft, assault, arson, torture, mutilation, terrorism and mass murder. How do you plead?"
Reveling in her many crimes, the witch took a moment to respond. She'd not enjoyed herself this much in a long time - far too long.
"Not guilty!" she exclaimed, making away with the vacant expression on her face, instead choosing to grin maniacally at the absolute silence that permeated the courtroom.
Fifty pairs of eyes gazed upon her, all displaying a healthy mixture of fear, disbelief and confusion. Laughter bubbled in her throat - it was such an obvious sham but there was simply no way for any of them to prove it.
"What can I say? Rodolphus may have been a slimy little prick, but he sure knew how to cast the Imperius curse."
The Great Hall was in a quiet frenzy, though it wasn't difficult to guess what all the hushed whispering was about.
Bellatrix Lestrange had somehow gotten herself pardoned, and from the stories Daphne had been told that was not a good thing. The mad witch's face was plastered all over the latest issue of the Prophet, her dark, horrible yet undeniably alluring visage the cause of many shudders.
Looking around, Daphne gauged her classmates' reactions intently, and none more so than Harry Potter's.
His expression was unreadable, eyes unblinking as they stared into the newspaper in his hands.
Her stomach twinged when the Carrow twins discreetly pressed against him. She had no quarrel with the girls, but the self-proclaimed ice queen of Slytherin would not allow them to monopolize her butler as they had the last few days.
She really should've made the punishment a month long, instead of a measly seven days.
"Pfft-"
The oddest sound reached her ears - that of barely suppressed laughter.
Potter had finally taken his eyes off the paper, and for a split-second Daphne wondered if he'd gone insane. The boy's lips were twitching with mirth, and not for the first time she couldn't help but feel that he knew something the rest of them did not.
She clenched her hands, already stomping towards him angrily.
How dare he laugh at a moment like this, she fumed. Didn't he realize what was going on? Couldn't he see the danger he was in?
Hadn't that run-in with the cerberus taught him anything?
Daphne shook her head in exasperation - of course it hadn't. As soon as she returned to the castle, Potter had informed her he'd found of a way to get past the beast, courtesy of a certain blabbermouth of a groundskeeper.
"What?" she heard him ask, meeting the disbelieving stares of everyone around him. "Come on, you can't tell me it isn't funny."
"It's not, mate," said Zabini.
"First Sirius," Potter commented, ignoring his friend's remark. "Who turns out to be awesome, even if he's a bit of a dog."
That was different, thought Daphne. With Black, there was always plausible deniability. He'd never actually been seen with Death Eaters, let alone the Dark Lord, and from what her parents had told her he was the Potters' best friend.
Bellatrix Lestrange, however, was a monster in every sense of the word, second only to her master.
The Imperius curse didn't turn people into monsters - not like that.
"And now Bellatrix," continued Potter, still with a smile on his face. "I dunno, but I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the Black family's just misunderstood."
"You're wrong."
Surprisingly, it wasn't Daphne that had spoken, nor any of the Slytherins.
Neville Longbottom stood a short distance away, pudgy fists balled up and with the stoniest expression she'd ever seen on his face.
Neville didn't quite know how he'd mustered the courage, but maybe it had something to do with the silent, fiery rage that coursed through his body.
The witch that tortured his parents and ruined his life was free.
His grandmother always spoke of how inept the Ministry was, but today he'd felt it for himself. It didn't help when he overheard Harry talking about giving her a second chance, as if there was even the slightest possibility of her innocence.
What he didn't expect was to be grabbed by the arm, taken all the way to the Slytherin common room and into Harry Potter's very own quarters.
"Harry, I don't think… I'm not supposed to be here-"
"Nonsense, you're my friend and you're going to tell me exactly what's going on."
Neville's eyes widened.
They'd only spoken on a handful of occasions since the incident with the broomstick, most of the time for a brief while and never about anything even remotely sensitive. There was no way Harry should've been able to read him like that, even if he wasn't the best at hiding his emotions.
For all anyone knew, he was just another student afraid of the Death Eater on the loose.
"N-Nothing," he stammered, sounding meek and unconvincing even to his own ears.
"I don't believe you. I've never seen you this way before, Neville, it's like you-"
Harry cut himself off abruptly, voice lowering to a whisper.
"Did she do something to you?"
Neville contemplated making a run for it, but something held him back. He'd never confided in anyone before, afraid of their scorn, not that the pitying glances some adults would throw at him were any better.
Very slowly, he nodded his head.
"My parents."
In the blink of an eye, the Slytherin enveloped him in a hug. Neville stiffened; he was unused to being hugged, his grandmother never one for physical affection. It felt nice, however, knowing that someone knew and actually cared.
"She tortured them," he said, the words leaving his lips of their own accord. "Cursed them until they went mad."
Harry grasped his shoulders, gently easing himself out of the hug.
"I'm sorry."
If anyone could relate, it would be him.
"Me too."
Harry escorted Neville out of the common room, the latter insisting that he'd manage the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower on his own.
Once he left, Harry sighed deeply, feeling like the worst person in the world. Neville had poured his heart out, and still he wasn't entirely convinced.
No doubt someone had tortured his parents, but the fact remained the paper stated Bellatrix Black was married to a certain Goku Black. It was a name Harry had heard only once, and it was far too much of a coincidence for Mister Goku not to be involved.
That was why he'd laughed, why he'd been so entirely unperturbed by the news.
Everything suddenly made sense, from the attack on Azkaban to both Sirius and Bellatrix' escape. Mister Goku had to have known about them and left them alive deliberately, considering no one else escaped his wrath.
That was the only thing which gave Harry a moment of pause - his very first friend had killed a lot of people.
Murderers, his conscience whispered, and perhaps even worse.
"Letting the enemy into our common room now, Potter?" asked Gemma as he passed by, though she didn't sound particularly angry.
Harry scoffed at the prefect and her friends, who were all looking at him curiously.
"Remind me again, who exactly were you snogging the night after we trounced Hufflepuff in the latest round of Quidditch?"
Gemma spluttered something incoherently, her face reddening to the point that she'd make Godric Gryffindor proud.
"That's what I thought," he quipped. "All you're missing is a touch of gold and you'd fit right in, by the way."
"Sh-Shut up!"
"Hah- he got you good, Farley!" said Higgs, snorting.
"Not you too!"