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Chapter 161: The Verdict on Sirius Black
Dumbledore’s voice faltered slightly, as if even he had not expected Sirius Black to still be unaware of why he stood before the tribunal—whether it was shock at Sirius’s lucid mind and speech, or disbelief that someone could remain so composed under such circumstances.
After a pause, he pressed down firmly on Sirius Black’s shoulder.
“Yes, he is still alive,” Dumbledore said. “Transformed into a rat, disguised as a child’s pet, hiding in plain sight for eleven years—only recently apprehended at Hogwarts.”
Sirius Black stared blankly at the floor, dazed, his thoughts unknown.
Dumbledore continued, detailing the crimes confessed by Peter Pettigrew.
It was he who had betrayed them.
It was he who had caused the deaths of James and Lily Potter.
And when cornered by Sirius Black, it was he who had cast a spell that killed twelve Muggles.
Those wizards who had not attended the previous trial murmured in astonishment. Even the court’s order could not contain the growing uproar.
Moody scowled. “Such a cowardly scum deserves nothing less than a Dementor’s kiss!”
The retired Auror spoke with open disgust.
“Ministry of Magic has sentenced him to life imprisonment!” Remus Lupin said, his voice tight with restrained fury. “But… to let him live, to suffer the endless torment of his own guilt—perhaps that’s a better fate.”
“Peter Pettigrew was judged yesterday?” Wade asked.
“A secret trial,” Remus Lupin replied, his voice low. “Fewer witnesses. Originally, his trial was scheduled after Sirius Black’s—but Dumbledore moved it forward.”
Moody nodded. “Only after confirming Peter Pettigrew’s guilt could Sirius Black be declared innocent.”
He stared intently at Sirius Black, as if searching the skeletal face—so hollow, so weathered—for any trace of concealed emotion.
“Frankly,” Moody added, “Fudge lacks the backbone for this. If Mileson Borthed were in charge, she’d never let Pettigrew live to enjoy another breath.”
“Peter Pettigrew is an Animagus,” Wade said. “Could he not transform into a rat and escape Azkaban?”
Moody shook his head. “I may not like such creatures—but they’re the world’s most effective prison guards. No one escapes their watch—no matter how many eyes they might lack.”
“Since they knew he was an Animagus,” Remus Lupin added, “the Ministry should have measures in place to track Animagi.”
As they spoke in low tones, Dumbledore had already presented the limited evidence—mostly Peter Pettigrew’s own confession.
Then came Sirius Black’s confiscated wand.
The Ministry had retrieved it from a dusty corner of the evidence vault, then subjected it to a Scrying Charm—examined spell by spell, one after another, for over ten minutes.
No trace of the spell that had killed the twelve Muggles appeared within.
The Wizengamot members exchanged glances, nodding subtly. They already knew the truth. Dumbledore’s speech was meant for the journalists and the uninformed audience.
With the wand’s examination complete, the facts seemed undeniable.
Fudge then offered his own theory.
“If we misjudged Sirius Black’s identity,” he said, “he could become a vital instrument in The Dark Lord’s resurrection—endangering the entire magical world.”
But Fudge didn’t truly care who was innocent.
For him, stability was everything.
He wanted the magical world as still as a lake with no wind—quiet, predictable, safe—so he could sit comfortably in his position, collect petty political victories, and quietly fill his private treasure vault.
He feared change.
Peter Pettigrew had hidden for over a decade. What had he done? Nothing. His survival was no different from death.
But Sirius Black was a ticking bomb—Fudge couldn’t predict what he might do if freed. That uncertainty filled him with unease, a sense of danger.
And if Sirius Black were truly innocent, he was still Dumbledore’s man—something Fudge dared not admit aloud.
Fudge’s concern sounded plausible to some, and a few nodded in agreement.
Amelia Bones looked down at the bowed head of Sirius Black.
“Sirius Black,” she asked, “do you have anything to say?”
Sirius Black remained motionless.
Fudge sighed. “I believe he may not understand your question, Amelia…”
Suddenly, Sirius Black spoke—his voice dry, cracked, like old parchment.
“I am guilty.”
He slowly lifted his head.
“They were… effectively murdered by me. It was I who convinced James and Lily Potter, at the very last moment, to make Peter Pettigrew their Secret-Keeper—instead of me.”
“I made a terrible mistake… I caused their deaths… I am guilty… I deserve this.”
“No!” Harry burst out, voice rising like a storm.
Every head in the chamber turned.
Fudge’s eyes widened in shock. “Silence! No disturbance!”
Some recognized Harry’s face—his scar, his messy hair—and their expressions shifted with sudden interest.
Harry knew everyone was watching him. He knew he might be thrown out at any moment. But he shouted with every ounce of strength he had:
“You’re not guilty! Even if my father and mother were here, they’d never say you were! Voldemort killed them—not you! Pettigrew’s betrayal was not your fault!”
Harry had spoken Voldemort’s name aloud—publicly, defiantly.
The courtroom erupted.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
“Did you hear that? He said his name!”
“Of course… he’s the one… Harry Potter!”
Wade heard the chaos around him.
Sirius Black’s head snapped up. He strained to see Harry, his hollow eyes searching.
Tears welled in his gaze—sudden, bright, flooding through the decay, the rot, the years of sorrow.
“…James Potter?” he whispered, trembling.
Amelia Bones had to bang her gavel repeatedly to restore order.
“Please remain quiet, Mr. Potter,” she said firmly. “Or I will have you removed.”
Harry sank back into his seat, his face burning, eyes fixed on his toes. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that—spoken so recklessly.
Remus Lupin placed a hand on his shoulder.
Across the rows, their eyes met—both men’s eyes glistening with tears.
“Then, those in favor of finding the defendant guilty—raise your hands,” Amelia Bones announced, her voice strong and clear.
Harry shot upright, breath caught in his throat, eyes wide with tension.
Some still turned to look at him, as if they hadn’t heard.
One. Two. Three.
A few scattered hands rose.
“Those in favor of acquittal—raise your hands,” she said again.
A wave of arms rose—then another. More. Then a full row.
Someone even nodded at Harry, smiling.
More than half.
“The verdict is not guilty,” Amelia Bones declared, bringing down her gavel. “Sirius Black is acquitted. He is free.”
(End of Chapter)
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