The Auror nodded and left without a word. Fudge, looking annoyed, glanced down at Peter, then at Crouch, and announced, "Court is adjourned temporarily. We will resume once Black arrives."
In the courtroom, robes rustled. Papers shuffled. The murmurs grew louder, still muffled but buzzing through the air. Anthony saw Professor Burbage rise from the benches below and turn to speak with Madam Bones. Crouch remained stone-faced, unmoving in his seat.
Peter blinked his watery little eyes, studying the figures on the benches above. He kept flicking quick glances toward the corner door where Kingsley had exited. The chains held him fast.
Professor McGonagall stood. "Let's step outside."
Anthony and Lupin followed her down the steps. Peter shrank back into the farthest corner. McGonagall shot him a look of pure loathing. Lupin just walked past, expressionless. Anthony paused for a second. Peter was shaking harder. His thin hair fluttered in the draft as McGonagall pulled the door open.
The Hogwarts professors were still waiting by the entrance. The moment they emerged, Professor Sprout jumped up. "Well, Minerva? We saw Kingsley rush out."
"Adjourned," McGonagall said. "Crouch demanded Sirius be present. Kingsley went to Azkaban to fetch him."
"What?" Sprout said. "Raised right there in court?"
"A perfectly valid request," Professor Flitwick said. "Let me think… the Wizengamot Charter of Rights… well, I can't recall the exact clause, but in essence, if a vital witness is unavailable or unable to testify, the entire hearing can be deemed invalid. Sirius Black is… a very vital witness."
"But he's mad!" Sprout exclaimed.
"I'm afraid that is precisely what Crouch is hoping for," McGonagall said gravely. "Without the testimony of a key witness, Peter might walk free. Sirius would remain the traitor who doomed James and Lily. Crouch's original verdict would stand."
Snape shot to his feet.
"Where is Dumbledore?" he hissed. "What is he doing? Putting on his grand display of mercy and forgiveness?"
"Compose yourself, Severus," McGonagall said sharply. "Albus has his own judgment. The trial isn't over. It's not time for conclusions."
"Maybe Sirius Black isn't mad at all," Anthony said. He wished he sounded more certain. From his colleagues' faces, he'd failed.
"Maybe Peter Pettigrew will confess on his own," Sprout said.
"I must say, the odds are slim," Lupin said quietly. He glanced at Anthony and gave a sad smile. "For both."
Silence fell, broken only when Flitwick asked with concern, "Are you all right, Severus?"
Anthony looked. Snape's hand, clenched at his side, was white-knuckled around his vial of potent Veritaserum.
"Don't do anything foolish, Severus," Sprout said.
Flitwick added, "Even if you charged in there right now and poured that down Peter Pettigrew's throat, they could still dismiss his confession. Argue his memories and cognition were magically altered."
Snape's face twisted. He stared at the courtroom door beside him, bitter frustration plain in his eyes.
Just then, footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.
Anthony looked with the others. A man was descending the stairs. A filthy wizard's robe hung loose on his tall, gaunt frame. Long, matted hair fell over his shoulders, nearly obscuring his sallow, skeletal face. But no one could miss the eyes. They burned.
Kingsley followed behind, wand pointed at his back.
"Sirius!" McGonagall gasped.
Sirius's voice was a rasp. "Minerva." It sounded unused. Like a broken bellows.
"If you have words," Kingsley murmured, "make them quick. Five minutes, tops."
"Thank you, Kingsley," McGonagall said.
But everyone fell silent. Just stared at Sirius Black. The man they'd all believed was long gone to madness.
McGonagall finally spoke. "As long as our inquiry follows proper procedure, I believe the sentence will be the Dementor's Kiss. The Minister wants a sensational story."
"The Dementor's Kiss," Sirius repeated. "Lovely."
His gaze shifted slowly from McGonagall to Sprout, then to Anthony—he stared blankly for a moment, as if trying to place him. McGonagall gave a terse introduction. Sirius nodded—then to Lupin.
His eyes lingered on Lupin's face for a long time.
"God, Remus," Sirius croaked. "You look old."
"Look who's talking," Lupin said.
Sirius kept staring. He said, very slowly, "I heard you caught him?"
"Yes," Lupin said. "You switched, didn't you?"
Sirius gave a slow, heavy nod. A complex storm of emotions passed over his face. He said nothing.
Lupin met his gaze, then gave a soft, quiet laugh and shook his head.
Sirius's mouth twisted into a grin, showing yellowed teeth. His eyes dropped to Flitwick. Like with Sprout, he seemed to strain to remember.
"Long time, Professor Flitwick," he said, smoother now.
"Good to see you, Mr. Black," Flitwick squeaked.
Sirius's smile faded as his eyes landed on Snape.
Snape stood by the wall near the benches, undisguised revulsion on his face. Even though moments before they'd been discussing how to proceed if Sirius was mad, seeing him lucid seemed to fill Snape only with disappointment.
"What's this Death Eater doing here?" Sirius asked disdainfully.
"Severus is a professor at Hogwarts," McGonagall said sternly. "He has been of great help."
Sirius gave a hoarse laugh. "Him? Help?"
Snape's tone was even more contemptuous. "More than you could provide from your cell, certainly."
"He is here to help, Sirius," Lupin cut in. "He even prepared a strong Veritaserum for Peter."
"Time," Kingsley reminded them.
Sirius eyed Snape with deep distrust. Then he said abruptly, "Give it to me."
"What?" Lupin said.
"The Veritaserum," Sirius said.
"What are you planning, Sirius?" McGonagall demanded. "I told you, we need a proper, by-the-book trial!"
"I said give it to me, Snivellus," Sirius snarled, thrusting his hand out at Snape, palm up.
A profound, physical hatred flashed across Snape's face. His nostrils flared. The disgust in Sirius's eyes was a perfect match, but he kept his hand outstretched, stubborn.
Voices overlapped: "Sirius, you can't use Veritaserum—" "Don't be rash!" "Mr. Black!"
"Time to go in," Kingsley said firmly, pulling the courtroom door open.
Snape slammed the vial into Sirius's palm. Sirius's fingers closed around it. He turned, satisfied, and walked into the courtroom with Kingsley's wand at his back.
It was too late to stop him. McGonagall glanced at the small, clear bottle in Sirius's hand, shot Snape a reproachful look, and ushered Anthony and Lupin back inside.
The heavy black door shut behind them once more.
…
"The vital witness is present, Minister," Kingsley announced. Anthony, McGonagall, and Lupin returned to the spectator seats.
The courtroom was dead silent. Every eye was on Sirius Black standing by the door. Many stared wide-eyed, astonished he could even stand. A few looked pleased. Anthony glanced at Dumbledore. He stood beside Fudge, looking down at Sirius. Too far to read his expression.
Peter had curled into a tight ball on his chair. He dared a cautious peek. Sirius caught the movement instantly. His face contorted into a terrifying grin. The moment their eyes met, Peter let out a shriek and shrank back into his seat.
"Sirius Black!" a Wizengamot member exclaimed, as if he hadn't truly believed it possible.
"That's me," Sirius said. His reply provoked another wave of murmurs.
Peter trembled so violently the chains rattled. Sirius's smile turned mocking. Beside Anthony, Lupin sat straighter, hand on his wand.
"Don't worry. Mr. Black holds all the advantages here," Anthony whispered. Lupin released his wand and offered a thin smile.
Fudge peered down at Sirius, thoroughly confused by his coherent speech. But a smile was already spreading across his ruddy face. He settled into his seat, pleased.
"Court resumes!" Fudge boomed. "The vital witness is present, Mr. Crouch. Proceed!"
Wizengamot members hastily shuffled papers, creating a rustling cacophony, but Anthony could tell they weren't reading. Just keeping their hands busy. The court scribe snatched up his quill and his chin, scribbling furiously.
"You may question Sirius Black as needed," Fudge said benevolently. "Begin, Mr. Crouch."
Crouch looked gray, bewildered. He asked hoarsely, "Are you certain you are in your right mind, Mr. Black?"
"I have never been more certain," Sirius said. He turned his head, gaze locking onto Peter mere feet away. He whispered, "Never."
A weak, strange sound escaped Crouch's throat. Peter whimpered, as if Sirius's look had physically stabbed him. He tried desperately to scoot further away.
The Wizengamot noticed.
"The witness will speak from the stand," a voice declared.
"The witness may speak from beside the accused," Fudge countered.
"Minister Fudge's bias is rather blatant," Anthony murmured to McGonagall.
She gave a tight nod, lips pressed thin.
After a brief, reluctant discussion, the members agreed.
Sirius looked up. Repeated, "I am certain of my sanity."
"But… how?" a Wizengamot witch asked. "Have the Azkaban guards been negligent?"
Umbridge simpered, "Impossible. They are never soft on criminals."
Crouch seized the point. "And yet, here stands a living example. Under the guard you so staunchly defend, a man spent eleven years and emerged sane, whole. One can't help but wonder if the Death Eaters are on holiday in Azkaban."
"Please keep discussion relevant to the case," Madam Bones said. "Proceed with your testimony, Mr. Black."
"Ask your questions," Sirius rasped. "I swear I will answer truthfully."
"Describe the events leading to the Potters' deaths," a Wizengamot member said officiously. "Then state whether you betrayed them and bear responsibility for their deaths."
Sirius's eyes gleamed. "I will. It was Halloween Eve. We had plans. But just before leaving, I got an alert—Voldemort and his Death Eaters were attacking our people. I was worried he'd be in danger—" He pointed at Peter, who flinched. "—so I went straight to his house. It was clean. Empty. No sign of a struggle."
"Why did you go to Pettigrew's home first?" a wizard asked.
Sirius's voice dropped. "I was getting to that. I never betrayed James and Lily. Never. But…" He paused. "I am responsible for their deaths. Because I convinced James to switch the Secret Keeper to Peter Pettigrew… this traitor…"
He took a step toward Peter. Peter's eyes bulged. Tears streamed down his face.
"Sirius—Sirius Black!" Peter gasped, voice choked. "How can you? You betrayed James—"
"Lies!" Sirius roared. He lunged. His tall, gaunt frame loomed over Peter. "Even now, you lie—you dare—"
His hands closed around Peter's throat. The heavy interrogation chair rocked, nearly toppling. Peter screamed, thrashing in his seat, face purpling.
"Sirius!" Lupin shouted.
Sirius didn't hear. He stared fixedly at Peter, madness blazing in his eyes. He put his whole weight into his grip, bony fingers digging into Peter's fleshy neck. Peter's mouth gaped. A horrible krrrk-krrrk sound came from his throat. His eyes bulged horribly.
Spells shot from the Wizengamot benches. They yanked Sirius back. Ropes of light bound him. Dumbledore rose, conjuring a heavy armchair out of thin air. They forced the bound Sirius into it.
Sirius gasped for air, head lolling against the chair back.
"Proper procedure!" McGonagall muttered fiercely.
"He's a madman! A murderer!" Peter shrieked. "You saw! He tried to kill me in court!"
A murmur of agreement swept the Wizengamot. Several wizards gestured angrily at Sirius, shaking their heads, faces offended. Fudge gaped. Umbridge glared.
"Do not disrupt these proceedings," Crouch said with satisfaction, eyeing Sirius in the chair. "It severely damages your claim of sanity… In fact, I ask the court to consider whether testimony from such a man can be trusted."
"I believe the Wizengamot is capable of its own judgment," Madam Bones said coolly. "Do not lead the witness, Mr. Crouch."
A member flipped through files, reading tonelessly, "Eyewitnesses state Black killed multiple Muggles… Black stood laughing in the street amidst Muggle corpses… Dumbledore affirmed Black was the Potters' Secret Keeper…"
"I was clearly mistaken at the time," Dumbledore said calmly.
"Eleven years later, Black can say anything he likes," a witch sneered. "A secret switch of Keepers, but unless the Potters rise from their graves themselves, no witness can prove…"
Anthony made a soft "hmm."
McGonagall shot him a sharp look. "Henry!"
"Absolutely not," Anthony soothed. "I merely couldn't help thinking… his phrasing makes me suspect he's hinting."
McGonagall shook her head. "Not you too…"
Lupin gave them a puzzled glance, but the trial quickly reclaimed his focus.
"Eleven years ago, when sentenced, why did you not appeal?" someone asked. "Even in Azkaban, if you'd offered to retrial—say, suddenly remembered Death Eater secrets as proof of repentance—"
Sirius lifted his chin. "I am not a Death Eater. What secrets would I have?"
"You were accused of being one. You did not deny it then."
Sirius seemed about to speak, but Crouch cut him off.
"At that time," Crouch declared, "the evidence showed the Black family were devoted supporters of the Dark Lord. In this context, Sirius Black became a double agent. Pretending friendship with the Potters to gain trust, while feeding information to the Dark Lord. Finally, as a gift to his master, he betrayed them—"
"Black!" Peter cried. "James trusted you so much, he insisted you be his Secret Keeper, how could you—"
Another voice: "There's no proof—"
"You bring this retrial now, Dumbledore—"
Fudge said, "Order—"
They were all cut off by a collective gasp.
Sirius strained. He broke free of several ropes. His hands were loose. Even bound to the chair, Peter flinched, snapped his mouth shut, and cowered, the picture of terrified pity.
But Sirius wasn't looking at Peter. He pinched the stopper of the small, clear vial between thumb and forefinger. Lifted.
The stopper popped free with a crisp plink. It hit the rough courtroom floor, rolled twice, and stopped.
The vial was tiny. From Anthony's angle, he could barely see its contents. Sirius tilted his head back. Gave the vial an impatient shake.
Anthony couldn't see what happened—a drop of potion must have slipped into his mouth—but Sirius's eyes instantly went blank.
He lowered his head, coughed twice, and said in a low, flat drone, "Potent Veritaserum. I swear every word I say is true." His tone was devoid of inflection. His eyes were vacant. But beneath that, a lucid madness still simmered.
He looked up, scanned the Wizengamot, and finally fixed on Dumbledore. He spoke slowly, deliberately. "I would never have sold out James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."
The courtroom went utterly silent. Lupin let out a soft, shaky breath and sank back into his chair.
Dumbledore's voice filled the space. "I believe you."
"He's mad!" Peter squealed. "He escaped Dementors! Who knows what other tricks he has!"
"Veritaserum cannot be the sole determinant of truth," another member argued.
"But it greatly enhances credibility," Madam Bones said, her own moved feelings undisguised.
"You wanted to know how I stayed sane?" Sirius said to Crouch, perfectly calm. Even seated at the room's lowest point, bound, skeletal, and disheveled, he somehow seemed to be looking down on Crouch.
"I'll tell you," he said. "I stayed sane because I knew I was innocent."
"But—"
Sirius cut him off. He raised the small vial. Stared at Peter.
"There's plenty left," Sirius said. "Why don't you drink some, Peter?"
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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