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Harry shook his head slightly. It was all a farce, a performance to keep the old families happy while pretending to do something about the escaped Death Eaters. The law wasn't really about catching criminals—it was about protecting people like Lucius Malfoy from being exposed.
Lucius, sensing his advantage, leaned forward slightly. "I appreciate the Minister's thoughtfulness on this matter. I believe that with proper safeguards in place, we can ensure that Veritaserum is used only in the most serious cases, where the evidence is overwhelming. We cannot allow it to be wielded recklessly."
Amelia Bones looked like she was about to argue further, but before she could speak, a voice from the back of the room cut through the tension. "And who decides what's considered overwhelming evidence, Malfoy?"
The room turned to look at Sirius Black, who had been silent up until now, lounging casually in his seat with an air of indifference. But his words were sharp, and his eyes locked onto Lucius with open disdain.
Lucius didn't flinch, but Harry could see the flicker of annoyance in his expression. "Mr. Black, I trust the Wizengamot would make those determinations with the utmost care."
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, because we all know how well that's worked out in the past." His voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Forgive me if I don't trust the same people who sent an innocent man to Azkaban without a trial."
The tension in the room thickened, and Fudge looked like he wanted to melt into his chair. Lucius, for his part, remained poised. "As tragic as that situation was, Mr. Black, it's important we look forward, not backward. Dwelling on the mistakes of the past does nothing to protect us in the future."
Sirius' grin widened, but there was no humor in it. "Funny you'd say that, Malfoy, considering you're one of the people who's benefited most from those 'mistakes.'"
Lucius smiled, clearly enjoying Sirius'Gryffindorish outburst. "Perhaps, Black, if you hadn't spent your time crying out, 'I'm guilty! I killed them!' like a raving lunatic, instead of explaining the situation properly, we wouldn't be here today, discussing your tragic imprisonment."
Harry noticed the way Sirius' hand clenched at the insult, his knuckles turning white. Just as it looked like Sirius was about to launch himself at Malfoy, Madam Longbottom reached over and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Her presence alone seemed to ground Sirius for the moment, though Harry could see the fire in his godfather's eyes still burning bright.
"You always were good at twisting things, Malfoy," Sirius spat, barely holding back his fury. "Maybe one day you'll get what's coming to you."
Sirius growled under his breath but didn't move, though Harry could see the tension in his jaw. Lucius, still smug, leaned back in his seat, clearly pleased with himself for getting under Sirius' skin.
Fudge cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with how close things had come to spiraling out of control. "Yes, well, let's, er, stay on topic, shall we?" he stammered, shuffling his stack of papers as though they would somehow shield him from the tension in the room.
Harry watched the proceedings unfold with a growing sense of boredom. Fudge was still rambling on, tossing around words like "justice" and "integrity" as if anyone in the room actually believed he was interested in either. The truth was painfully obvious to Harry: this whole session was a show, a desperate attempt for Fudge to save face after the escape of Bellatrix and the others. It didn't matter what Fudge said—no one here was fooled.
As Fudge droned on, Harry found his mind wandering, wishing he were anywhere but here. The room was full of pompous old wizards, too wrapped up in their own interests to notice how much of a joke this all was. His eyes scanned the faces of the Heads of Houses, most of them either looking bored or far too interested in protecting their own families to care about actual justice. Lucius Malfoy sat calmly near the front, as if none of this could ever touch him. And honestly, Harry doubted it could.
They soon brought forward Barty Crouch Sr., the man responsible for locking up Sirius Black without so much as a trial all those years ago. Harry barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The blame was swiftly pushed onto Crouch, painting him as the villain behind every misstep the Ministry had taken. Watching the once-proud head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement crumble under the pressure was almost surreal, a brutal spectacle that publicly ended his career. Harry knew this wasn't the last they'd see of Crouch either—further crimes would be addressed in another hearing. But for now, they were content to tear him apart, giving the public a scapegoat to blame.
The Heads didn't hold back, especially Death Eaters who were once targeted with kill order by Crouch, tearing into him with brutal efficiency. They threw question after question, accusation after accusation, all aimed at dismantling his credibility and making sure no one would ever trust his name again. It was a spectacle, and by the time they were done, Crouch looked like a broken man. His career wasn't just over—it was obliterated.
Once the session ended, Harry felt no urge to stick around. Fudge, trying to play the part of the gracious politician, called out to him as the crowd began to disperse. "Ah, Mr. Potter, care to give a few words to the press? They'd love to hear from you, especially after all the Ministry has done to right these wrongs."
Harry didn't slow down, his face neutral. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, offering Fudge a 'polite' smile. "Not today, Minister. Got to get back to school. Maybe another time."
In similar 'politeness,' Harry brushed off Sirius's offer to catch up. Sirius had barely gotten the words out before Harry shook his head with a half-smile. "Not today, Sirius," Harry said. "Got to get back to school. Maybe another time."
Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but Harry had already turned away, heading toward the exit. With genuine regret, he informed Madam Longbottom, Madam Bones, Cyrus Greengrass, the Abbotts, and a few others that he needed to return to Hogwarts.
Dumbledore, waiting nearby, gave him a small nod as Harry approached. The two of them exited the Ministry the same way they had entered—through the hidden back door, avoiding the press entirely.
Walking away from the building, Dumbledore sighed. "Well, that was something," he said in an almost casual tone.
Harry smirked, "That's one way to put it."
Dumbledore chuckled along, "It's always amusing to watch politicians trip over their own feet. Petty schemes dressed up as grand ideas."
Harry wasn't as amused, but he wasn't going to let Dumbledore see the full extent of his thoughts. With a light tone that masked his real feelings, he said, "It's a shame how Crouch got treated, but I can't help feeling a bit relieved, considering he's the one who threw Sirius in Azkaban without a second thought."
Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Harry for a moment, that familiar twinkle in his eyes flickering. "The complexities of justice can often make it difficult to reconcile past actions, Harry," he said gently, before leading the conversation back to the more pressing matters at hand.
They moved toward the exit, and as they passed through the halls of the Ministry, the whispers and stares followed them. Harry, without breaking his stride, ignored the attention like a second skin. He had no intention of entertaining the onlookers with any performance.
As they approached the Apparition point, Dumbledore gave Harry a knowing nod. "You handled yourself well today," he commented, though Harry could hear the deeper meaning behind it.
"Thanks,," Harry responded. 'I wasn't planning on letting them turn this into a spectacle.' He thought in his mind. He wasn't going to give the Ministry or Fudge any more ammunition than necessary. He knew better than to trust anyone in that room fully, especially when so many of them had hidden agendas.
With a subtle move, Dumbledore Disapparated them both, the air cracking softly as they left the Ministry behind. Moments later, they reappeared in the familiar warmth of the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
"I shall take my leave, Headmaster. Thanks for taking me to the Ministry and back," Harry said, his tone casual but polite.
Dumbledore gave him a gentle smile. "Take care, Harry. And remember, should you ever need anything, my door is always open."
Harry gave a small nod. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, though he had no intention of needing Dumbledore's help anytime soon. With that, Harry turned and left the office.
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