CHAPTER 40: INTERROGATION OF A HERO

In the interrogation room, Harry sat quietly, taking in his surroundings with a guarded expression. The gray walls, ceiling, and floor seemed to press in on him, and the silence felt heavy. His wrists were bound to the cold metal table, leaving him to wait under the watchful eyes that he couldn't see but knew were there.

On the other side of a large, enchanted window, four figures sat observing him intently. Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, wore a thoughtful frown. Beside her sat Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, nervously dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. Dolores Umbridge, his Senior Undersecretary, perched beside him with a slight sneer, her quill poised. And at the end of the row, Albus Dumbledore observed the scene in silence, his eyes thoughtful and unreadable.

Fudge broke the silence, his voice tense. "Amelia, I hear the boy claims that… that Sirius Black is innocent?" His words were laced with skepticism, as if the very idea were absurd.

Amelia gave a brief nod, her gaze still fixed on Harry through the glass. "He does. And, Minister, there's a chance he might be right. The boy brought us both Sirius Black and… Peter Pettigrew."

"But that's impossible! Peter Pettigrew is dead!" Fudge sputtered, his face a mix of disbelief and unease.

"Our tests say otherwise," Amelia replied smoothly, never wavering. "The boy delivered us the real Peter Pettigrew. Our findings are consistent."

"Peter Pettigrew is alive?" Umbridge's tone was laced with disdain, though her eyes gleamed with a slight curiosity. "But Mr. Black… he still killed those thirteen Muggles," she reminded the others, though her tone suggested she had little concern for the Muggles themselves.

"Can we be so certain?" Amelia countered, her voice calm yet probing. "If Black didn't kill Pettigrew that day, how do we know he actually killed those Muggles? I intend to find out."

Fudge's face paled, and he dabbed at his forehead more vigorously. "What… what about the boy?" he asked nervously. "How on earth could he have known all this?"

"Precisely what we are here to understand," Amelia answered, glancing sideways at Dumbledore. "Albus, you've been rather quiet."

Dumbledore, who had been observing Harry intently, nodded and folded his hands. "I apologize, Amelia; I've simply been… reflecting." His gaze returned to Harry. "Mr. Potter is, indeed, something of a puzzle, even to me. The boy is clever, exceptionally so, and perceptive in ways I've rarely seen. In Slytherin, he has developed a shrewd intelligence… but he is also, in many ways, incredibly dangerous."

"Dangerous?" scoffed Umbridge, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "He's a child."

Amelia's gaze sharpened. "A child, perhaps, but one who has won two Japanese War Duels in consecutive years."

Fudge blinked, visibly taken aback. "Japanese War Duels? What… what in Merlin's name is that?"

"They're highly complex and dangerous magical combat duels," Amelia explained. "Only the most skilled duelists even attempt them. These duels are often to the finish, testing both combat prowess and strategic brilliance." She paused, giving Fudge a significant look. "And Mr. Potter has not only participated, but he has emerged victorious. Twice."

Fudge slumped back in his seat, processing this new information with a look of deepening unease. "But how… how does a boy his age come by such knowledge, such skills?" His gaze flickered nervously from Amelia to Dumbledore. "It's unnatural… it's… alarming."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, though his face remained grave. "Alarming, yes. But I would not say unnatural. Mr. Potter is indeed a unique case, and while we may not fully understand how he acquired this knowledge or what he intends with it, it would be unwise to overlook his value."

"His value?" Umbridge's voice was laced with scorn. "The boy is a menace! He consorts with known criminals and disrupts the natural order of the Ministry!"

"Miss Umbridge," Amelia interjected firmly, her patience waning. "We are not here to pass judgment based on fear or biases. The boy's knowledge and the evidence he has provided merit a fair investigation."

"But—" Fudge began, still dabbing his brow, his voice weak.

Amelia leaned forward, her tone measured but resolute. "Minister, we now have reason to believe that Sirius Black may be innocent of the charges against him. As head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it is my duty to ensure the truth is uncovered, regardless of how… uncomfortable it may be."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, adding quietly, "And it would be wise to keep an open mind, Cornelius. We must be cautious, yes, but we must also be fair."

Fudge fidgeted with his handkerchief, clearly agitated. "Fine, fine. Investigate. But we can't just let the boy walk free, Amelia. He's a… a mystery, and a dangerous one at that. He must be watched, closely."

Amelia's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Agreed. We'll take every necessary precaution." She looked once more through the window at Harry, who was sitting in silence, his face an unreadable mask.

In the dimly lit observation room, the four figures listened intently as Dumbledore continued.

"The Japanese War Duels are held every decade in Japan, attracting some of the most skilled and daring duelists in the world," he explained, his voice low and grave. "The duel's one rule is non-interference from outsiders. Once a wizard or witch steps into the ring, they must be prepared to face any spell, any weapon—even the Unforgivable Curses."

Dumbledore paused, his eyes momentarily distant as he recalled the scene. "I attended the last tournament myself. Several combatants attempted to strike Mr. Potter with Unforgivable Curses. He was nearly hit with the Killing Curse, and a young duelist even attempted to decapitate him with a sword."

Amelia leaned forward, her eyes wide. "A sword?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. Mr. Potter, however, displayed remarkable skill. He is not only a formidable wizard but also a martial artist of considerable prowess. He managed to disarm his opponents with both wand and body, evading attacks most experienced wizards would struggle to counter."

"Martial artist?" Umbridge repeated, her voice laced with disdain. "Is that some Muggle nonsense?"

"It is a form of combat," Dumbledore replied calmly, "highly disciplined and often highly effective, even against armed opponents." Umbridge's face twisted in disgust at the mention of Muggles, but Dumbledore paid her no mind.

Meanwhile, in the interrogation room, Harry was jolted from his thoughts as the door swung open, and a man entered. Dressed in formal Ministry robes, the man was tall and stern, with thin, steely eyes that fixed on Harry as he took a seat across from him. He steepled his fingers, leaning forward with an air of authority, as though expecting Harry to crumble under his gaze.

The man cleared his throat. "Do you know who I am?"

Harry gave him a quick look-over, then shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm hoping you're here from the food department because I'd kill for a sandwich right now."

The man's face twitched in irritation, but he held his composure, refusing to rise to Harry's bait. "Your levity is… noted, Mr. Potter. But I assure you, this situation is no laughing matter."

Harry smirked, leaning back as much as his restraints would allow. "Neither is sitting here hungry."

The interrogator's expression hardened. "Very well, let's get straight to the point. How did you come to know about Sirius Black's supposed innocence? And how did you identify Peter Pettigrew?"

Harry looked at him coolly. "How did I know?" He paused, as though weighing his words. "Maybe I just pay attention to things other people overlook. Maybe I've been taught to question everything. Or maybe," he added, leaning forward and lowering his voice, "I just have a knack for knowing when something's off."

The interrogator's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying you deduced all of this on your own?"

Harry tilted his head, studying the man. "Believe what you want. It doesn't really matter, does it? Pettigrew is alive, and Sirius Black… well, he deserves more than the Ministry's been willing to give him."

The man pressed on, unfazed. "You realize that if what you're saying is true, the implications are severe. And yet, here you are—what, playing the hero?"

Harry's smile faded slightly, his tone suddenly more serious. "I'm not playing anything. People—innocent people—are in danger because of your assumptions. If that's what you call 'justice,' I'd rather not be part of it."

In the observation room, Amelia Bones raised her eyebrows, a hint of admiration glinting in her eyes. She turned to the others. "The boy certainly doesn't lack courage."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he watched the exchange. "Indeed, Amelia. Mr. Potter has a unique way of getting to the heart of things."

Fudge, meanwhile, looked thoroughly unsettled. "He sounds… dangerous," he muttered, clutching his handkerchief tightly.

Steel's face hardened, and he leaned forward, his voice lowering. "I'm not here to play games, Potter. You think you're clever, but all your wit and charm won't get you out of this room unless I say so. Now, let's try again." He tapped a finger on the folder in front of him. "How did you meet Sirius Black after he escaped?"

Harry sighed, glancing at the folder with an almost bored expression. "Interesting question, Mr. Steel. Let's assume for a second that someone was innocent, that they'd been wrongfully imprisoned for, say, twelve years. Would you expect their godson—who happens to believe in their innocence—to just ignore them when they're finally free?"

Steel raised an eyebrow. "So you believe Black is innocent?"

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm saying the Ministry made some serious mistakes. Do you really think I'd go through the trouble of facing Dementors if I thought he was guilty?"

Steel glanced at the glass, his expression turning calculating. "You're no ordinary kid, that's clear. But you're also in dangerous territory, Potter. If Black's innocent, that's a stain on the Ministry we'd rather not make public."

Harry leaned forward, meeting Steel's gaze evenly. "So, you're more concerned with covering up your mistakes than actually fixing them?"

Steel scowled, clearly unamused by Harry's defiance. "The Ministry has its protocols, Potter. Your attitude here isn't helping."

"My attitude is the least of your problems." Harry's voice was low, and there was a spark of determination in his eyes. "There's a man rotting in prison for a crime he didn't commit. And if that makes me a 'problem,' then maybe the Ministry should rethink what justice actually means."

Steel's gaze held steady, but a flicker of respect crossed his face. "You're a brave one, I'll give you that. But if you're not careful, your 'bravery' will land you exactly where Black is—only this time, there won't be any visitors."

Harry leaned back, shrugging. "If telling the truth gets me thrown in Azkaban, then maybe it's where I'm meant to be."

Steel shook his head, his tone now laced with a hint of exasperation. "Kid, do you understand what you're doing? You're making enemies with people you don't want as enemies."

Harry smirked, unfazed. "If you're trying to intimidate me, it won't work. I've faced worse than you, Steel. So go ahead, ask your questions. But don't expect me to roll over just because you're in a bad mood."

Steel exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping the table once more as he considered his next move. "Fine, Potter. If you want to play this game, we'll play. But remember—there's only so much protection even a name like yours can give you."

The room fell into a stunned silence as Harry's words hung in the air. The scene on the other side of the vanished glass was almost comical—Fudge's face had turned an alarming shade of pink, Amelia's mouth was parted in a rare look of surprise, and Umbridge looked like she'd swallowed a particularly sour lemon. Dumbledore alone appeared mildly amused, his eyes twinkling as he observed the scene unfold.

Steel tried to regain his composure, but the handcuffs around his wrists rattled as he struggled. "You… you insolent brat!" he sputtered, tugging fruitlessly at the cuffs.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to help you with those, or are we pretending you still have control here?"

Fudge finally found his voice, his usual pompous tone reduced to a faint stammer. "P-Potter! What do you think you're doing? This is a direct assault on the Ministry of Magic!"

Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. "Assault? No, I think the word you're looking for is 'self-defense.' Or maybe 'negotiation.' But if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you pick. Now… about that lawyer and those sandwiches?"

Umbridge opened her mouth, her tone high and shrill. "You insolent little boy! Do you think you can just make demands in the presence of Ministry officials? You will answer our questions now or face the full consequences!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh, so you're the spokesperson here? Because last I checked, I hadn't said anything about answering questions until I had legal representation and some properly made sandwiches."

Amelia Bones crossed her arms, studying him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "Mr. Potter, you seem to know exactly how far you can push this. What exactly do you hope to gain by antagonizing us?"

Harry met her gaze steadily. "Justice. And if a little discomfort on your side of the glass is the price, I'd say it's a fair trade."

Dumbledore finally stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. "Minister, Madam Bones, I believe Harry's request for representation is reasonable, given the circumstances. And if I may, I would suggest we refrain from further escalation."

Fudge looked from Dumbledore to Harry, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. At last, he sputtered, "Fine! We'll get your lawyer, Potter. But mark my words—there will be consequences for this."

Harry gave him a mocking salute. "Consequences, I'm sure. But remember, Minister: the truth has a way of coming out, no matter how hard you try to bury it."

Amelia shot a look at Steel, who was still struggling against the cuffs. "Steel, I think it's time you stepped outside. Potter's lawyer will be here shortly, and I'm sure they'll be very interested in how this questioning was handled." Her gaze flicked back to Harry. "And as for you, Mr. Potter—if you truly believe in Black's innocence, then you'd best be prepared to prove it."

Harry's grin widened. "Oh, I am. And trust me—by the end of this, you'll all know exactly what kind of man Sirius Black really is."

Steel's face was red with fury as he shuffled out of the room, casting Harry one last venomous glare. Harry met his gaze without flinching, watching him exit with a hint of satisfaction.

Once Steel was gone, Amelia's sharp eyes turned back to Harry. "Very well, Mr. Potter," she said, her voice steady. "Your lawyer will be here shortly, and we'll wait until they arrive to continue our questioning." She glanced at the others. "Until then, we will not escalate this further."

Harry leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, completely at ease. "Wonderful. I'll also take those sandwiches whenever you're ready."

Fudge looked like he was about to explode, but Dumbledore gave a calming gesture. "Now, now, Cornelius, let's focus on the bigger picture here," Dumbledore said smoothly. "We have a unique opportunity. If Harry is right about Sirius Black, then we owe it to ourselves and the wizarding community to pursue this line of inquiry."

Umbridge, who'd been glaring daggers at Harry, finally spoke, her voice dripping with disdain. "Albus, the boy is manipulative and disruptive. I say we go ahead and proceed without his so-called 'demands.'"

"Quite the contrary," Dumbledore replied, his tone unfaltering. "The boy has every right to demand proper legal representation. And as it stands, Dolores, our priority is the truth, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry gave her a smug look. "Yes, Dolores, wouldn't you agree?"

Umbridge's face contorted, but she forced a tight smile, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Of course, Headmaster," she said, though her voice trembled with barely concealed rage.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, and Harry's lawyer, a tall, composed wizard with neatly combed silver hair, entered. He wore elegant robes and held a briefcase, giving Harry an approving nod as he settled into the chair beside him.

"Mr. Potter," he greeted, his tone courteous but formal. "I've been apprised of the situation." He looked at Fudge, then at the others. "I'm here to ensure my client's rights are respected."

Harry sat up straighter, flashing him a grin. "Good to see you, Mr. Ravenshire. I trust you'll help make this a fair and productive chat."

Ravenshire smiled back with a glint of amusement. "Indeed. Now, I'd like to start by reviewing the interrogation procedures used here. Mr. Steel's...methods were, from what I understand, not entirely appropriate for a minor."

Fudge shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, but we were dealing with an extraordinary situation, and Mr. Potter's own conduct has—"

"My client's conduct is not in question here," Ravenshire interjected, his tone sharp. "He requested legal representation before answering questions, a right that was initially denied."

Amelia, clearly feeling the weight of Ravenshire's words, nodded. "Yes, Mr. Ravenshire, you're absolutely correct. Moving forward, we will proceed with full adherence to proper protocol. Shall we begin?"

Harry exchanged a glance with Ravenshire, who gave him a reassuring nod. Then, he looked squarely at Amelia. "Go ahead."

Amelia opened the folder in front of her, pulling out several documents. "Harry, let's address your relationship with Sirius Black. You've asserted that he is innocent and claimed to have knowledge that Peter Pettigrew is alive. Would you explain how you came to this conclusion?"

Harry glanced at Ravenshire, who gave a subtle nod, signaling that he could answer. "I've had my suspicions for a while," Harry said, choosing his words carefully. "It started with inconsistencies in the story I'd been told about my parents' deaths. And then, about two months ago, I happened to... well, let's say I had a chance encounter with someone claiming to be Pettigrew."

Fudge looked flabbergasted. "A chance encounter? How is that even possible? Pettigrew was reported dead years ago!"

"That's what everyone believed," Harry replied calmly. "But it turns out he's been hiding in plain sight, disguised as a rat."

"Ridiculous!" scoffed Umbridge. "A wizard as powerful as Pettigrew wouldn't debase himself by hiding as a mere rodent!"

Harry's mouth twitched in amusement. "He may have been powerful once, but he wasn't exactly brave, was he? Disguising himself as a pet rat probably seemed a pretty safe way to hide. And it worked, for years. He's been living as someone's pet all this time."

Amelia looked at him, a trace of intrigue softening her typically stern expression. "You're saying he's an Animagus?"

Harry nodded. "Exactly. That's how he survived. And that's how Sirius Black was framed."

Fudge still looked skeptical, but Amelia pressed on. "And you managed to bring both Black and Pettigrew here. Can you describe how?"

Harry exchanged a glance with Ravenshire. "Let's just say, I have my ways."

Umbridge scoffed again, but Amelia silenced her with a raised hand. "This is an extremely serious claim, Mr. Potter. If it's proven true, it would change everything we know about the events that occurred that night. But... do you have any evidence to substantiate it?"

At that, Harry sat forward, meeting her gaze directly. "The proof is Pettigrew himself. He's being held right here in this building. Do a simple Veritaserum test on him if you're uncertain. I guarantee his story won't match the Ministry's official record."

The room went silent as Amelia looked at Fudge. "Well, Cornelius?"

Fudge stammered, "This is... this is highly irregular! Bringing back someone who's supposedly dead—it's preposterous!"

Ravenshire leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "Minister, irregular as it may be, the Ministry has an obligation to seek the truth. And if Pettigrew can verify Mr. Potter's claims, then we must act accordingly."

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of Umbridge's nails tapping nervously on the table. Finally, Amelia nodded. "Very well. We'll arrange for Pettigrew to undergo questioning under Veritaserum."

Harry's grin returned. "You'll find that the truth is a lot more interesting than the fiction that's been spread."

Fudge, still red-faced, reluctantly agreed, muttering to himself. "Fine, fine. But this better yield results, or heads will roll."

As Amelia began the arrangements, Harry leaned back, feeling a sense of vindication. For the first time in a long while, he felt like the scales were finally tipping toward justice.

Harry held Sirius tightly, feeling the weight of all they'd been through. "You're my family, Sirius. I never doubted you," he said, voice filled with quiet conviction. "I'd do it all again."

Sirius pulled back just enough to look Harry in the eyes, his expression a mix of pride and emotion. "You've given me a second chance—not just at freedom, but at life. And that… I'll spend every day making sure it wasn't wasted."

Harry gave him a reassuring smile. "You deserve it, Sirius. You deserve to live, really live, and not just survive."

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