Hearing this winding tale, everyone present was deeply shocked. Yet the story wasn't over—it was only just reaching the critical point. This time, even Amelia Bones didn't interrupt Sirius Black's account.
"…Hagrid got there before me, sobbing about what happened to James and Lily. I glanced at the baby in his arms—Harry—and saw a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. I didn't realize then it was from the Killing Curse. I was in a panic. Hagrid said he was taking Harry to Dumbledore, so I lent him my flying motorcycle. I stayed in the ruins for a while, staring at James's body, swearing to take revenge. It was the only thing I could do."
On the curved bench, Harry's mind went blank. Sirius's words dragged his memories back to that night over a decade ago. It was as if he could see the scene himself, clearer than the visions the Dementors forced upon him. He heard his mother's pleading voice: "Don't touch Harry! Don't touch Harry! Please—I'll do anything—"
"Step aside—step aside!"
A flash of green light.
The scar on Harry's forehead throbbed with pain.
"Harry, Harry—are you alright?" Harry opened his eyes, catching Dumbledore's concerned gaze. It felt like he could see his own reflection in those blue eyes.
"…I'm fine," Harry mumbled.
He looked at Sirius, chained to the chair, a storm of complex emotions swelling within him. He'd imagined this moment countless times—knowing Sirius had come for him, but assuming it was to kill him, so he could take revenge for his parents. Yet the man before him was telling a different story.
"Professor Dumbledore, is what Sirius… Black said true?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore's blue eyes shifted back to him.
"Keep watching, Harry."
The court scribe's quill scratched furiously, recording Sirius's words. Amelia Bones tapped her wand lightly, and the chains binding Sirius retracted into the armrests. No one objected.
"Your story is compelling, but I have a few questions," she said, watching Sirius flex his wrists. "Earlier—when you were at Hogwarts—you mentioned secretly switching the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Does this tie into the betrayal by Peter Pettigrew?"
"That was me," Sirius said in a low, steady voice, no longer hoarse. "I convinced Lily and James to switch to Peter at the last moment, to make him the Secret-Keeper. I knew Voldemort was after them. Lily had just given birth to Harry, and James was focused on protecting her. The only weak link was the Secret-Keeper."
"Publicly, we let everyone think I was the Secret-Keeper, but in truth, it was Peter. Only the four of us knew—Lily, James, Peter, and me. Not even Dumbledore was told. That way, Voldemort and his Death Eaters would focus their schemes on me. Even better, if they managed to capture me, it'd be for nothing." A bitter, mocking smile tugged at his lips. "At the time, I thought it was a brilliant plan. Imagine—outsmarting Voldemort himself—"
"So," Amelia Bones summarized, "when the Potters were killed, you realized Peter Pettigrew was the traitor and confronted him, leading to that catastrophic incident."
"We'd started to suspect a leak in the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius said. "There might've been a traitor, or maybe it was something else. None of us wanted to doubt the comrades we'd fought beside. That's why I warned Frank—I was worried he might accidentally let something slip to a Death Eater in the Ministry. But it turned out there was a traitor, and it was the cowardly, spineless Peter."
"You never suspected him?" Amelia Bones asked.
Sirius shook his head bitterly.
"Peter was weak-willed, but he'd been part of our group since school. Ten years—ten whole years together. After graduation, he volunteered to join the Order. We were glad, though he rarely went on missions, even though his skills were perfect for gathering intelligence."
Amelia Bones's monocle glinted in the firelight.
"Because of his Animagus form?"
Sirius froze.
"You resisted the Dementors' effects with your Animagus form, didn't you? And used it to escape?" Bones pressed confidently. "What do you transform into?"
"A big dog," Sirius said quietly. "Peter's Animagus form is a rat."
"No wonder," Bones said. She turned to Hodge and the others. "Mr. Lupin, based on Black's account, do you have anything to add or dispute? When Black turned himself in, you were quick to accept his story."
Remus Lupin stood, facing a mix of curious and skeptical gazes.
"James, Sirius, Peter, and I were close friends at school. Of us, James and Sirius were undoubtedly the closest. Sirius was James's best man at his wedding, and when Lily had Harry, James immediately asked Sirius to be his godfather. So when I heard Sirius had betrayed James and killed Peter, I couldn't believe it—not for a second. Sirius would rather die than betray James," Lupin said firmly.
"I asked Frank to look into things at the Ministry because I had no connections myself. When he came back and told me what happened, even I started to doubt… Like Sirius said, we all sensed something was off. Several times, we walked straight into Death Eater traps—the McKinnons, the Prewett brothers—it wasn't coincidence…"
"Forgive me, Sirius," Lupin said.
"No harm done, old friend," Sirius replied with a roguish grin. "I once thought you might be the spy, so forgive me too, alright?"
"Of course," Lupin said, a smile breaking through his weary expression.
"Ahem—" Fudge cleared his throat, cutting through the warm moment. "Thank you, Amelia, for your insightful questions, which have painted a vivid tale of a hero's suffering—if it's all true."
"It's a gripping story with no obvious holes, at least not yet. But the court requires evidence."
"Want me to fetch it myself?" Sirius asked with a sardonic smirk.
"Of course not," Fudge said loudly. "The Ministry will assign elite Aurors to investigate. In the meantime, you'll return to Azkaban—it's proper procedure. There are many questions to resolve, like why you turned yourself in without evidence. That's the Ministry's duty. I hereby declare the first hearing of Sirius Black III—"
"Wait," Sirius interrupted. "Who said I don't have evidence?"
Fudge's eyes widened.
"I do," Sirius said. "But first, I'd rather answer your earlier question—why I turned myself in." He paused, choosing his words. "Someone approached me, promised me a chance to live in the open, but only if I turned myself in and faced trial."
"Who?" Fudge asked, squinting instinctively at Dumbledore.
"Hodge Blackthorn."
————
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