Harry stabbed at his lunch without appetite. The Great Hall was filled with whispers and stares, students passing copies of the Daily Prophet between them. Charlotte sat next to him, reading her own paper with a frown.
"'Boy-Who-Lived Uncovers Ministry Cover-Up,'" Bill read from across the table. "'In a shocking turn of events, Harry Potter has discovered that his godfather, Sirius Black, was wrongfully imprisoned without trial while the real culprit lived as a pet rat...'" He looked up at Harry. "Skeeter's really going for the dramatic angle."
"At least the Ministry statement seems reasonable," Charlotte pointed to the smaller article. "'New evidence prompts full investigation.' They're not denying anything."
Charlie leaned over to read. "Percy's still not coming to meals?"
"Can you blame him?" Bill shrugged. "Finding out your pet rat was actually a Death Eater who betrayed Harry's parents... I'd want some time alone too."
Harry's fork scraped against his plate. The sound of metal on ceramic drew concerned looks from his friends, but he ignored them. Pettigrew's confession kept replaying in his mind, and he was still feeling an urge to burn him alive no matter if it hurt Black's chances of getting out.
A group of Slytherin first-years walked past, all clutching their pets closer. One girl had wrapped her cat in a blanket, only its head poking out as she hurried to her table.
"Everyone's paranoid now," Charlotte set down her paper. "Professor Kettleburn had to cancel his lesson because three students refused to work with any animals."
"Did you really catch him in the library?" A small Hufflepuff boy stopped at their table, eyes wide. "My sister said you used some kind of special magic to trap him."
"Go back to your table," Bill pointed at the Hufflepuff table. The boy scurried away.
Harry pushed his plate aside, still full. "I don't want to talk about Pettigrew."
"The Ministry's taking it seriously," Charlotte touched his arm. "Mom sent me an owl this morning. She says..." She hesitated. "She says things might get complicated."
"Complicated?" Harry clenched his fists under the table. "They threw an innocent man in prison. What's complicated about that?"
"Harry..." Bill glanced around before lowering his voice. "During the war, a lot of people were imprisoned without proper trials. It wasn't just Sirius Black."
The temperature around their table rose slightly. Charlie loosened his tie, but didn't comment.
"So because it happened to others, that makes it right?" Harry's voice stayed quiet, but his eyes blazed. "They didn't even check. Seven years in Azkaban, and they never even questioned him."
More students walked past their table, whispering behind their hands. A few pointed at the Prophet's front page, where Harry's photo stared back seriously. The article painted him as a crusading hero, uncovering Ministry corruption while seeking justice for his family.
"The Wizengamot's meeting next week," Bill said. "Dad says they're fast-tracking the whole thing."
"Good." Harry stood up. "I need some air."
His friends exchanged worried looks as he walked away. The whispers followed him through the Great Hall, but he barely heard them. His mind kept returning to Pettigrew's smile when he'd mentioned Sirius being dragged to Azkaban.
He made it halfway across the entrance hall before Aunt Min caught up with him.
"Harry." She adjusted her glasses. "Dumbledore wants to see you. There are some matters regarding next week's proceedings that need discussion."
Harry nodded, falling into step beside her. They walked in silence, but he could feel her concern. When they reached the gargoyle, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Whatever happens next week," Aunt Min squeezed gently, "remember that you're not alone in this."
The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing the spiral staircase. Harry took a deep breath and started climbing.
Dumbledore stood by Fawkes' perch when Harry entered, stroking the phoenix's feathers. "Ah, Harry. Please, sit down." He moved to his desk as Harry took his usual chair across from him. "I assume you've seen this morning's papers?"
"Everyone has." Harry slumped in the chair. "The whole school's acting weird about it."
"Understandable." Dumbledore picked up a copy of the Prophet. "Rita Skeeter has quite the talent for stirring public sentiment." He set the paper down. "But we need to discuss what happens next."
Harry straightened. "The Ministry statement mentioned a Wizengamot meeting next week."
"Yes. As my ward, you have the right to attend." Dumbledore's blue eyes met Harry's. "But before you decide, there are some things you should understand about the situation."
"What's there to understand? Pettigrew confessed. Sirius Black never got a trial."
"After Grindelwald's defeat," Dumbledore spoke quietly, "many of his followers were imprisoned without formal trials. The magical world was in chaos. Evidence was often lost or destroyed. Waiting for proper procedures meant risking more deaths."
Harry frowned. "But that was different. They knew those people were guilty."
"Did they?" Dumbledore pulled out an old newspaper from his desk. "This man was imprisoned for three years before new evidence proved his innocence. By then, his family had already fled to America." He showed Harry the article. "The Ministry had sworn statements from multiple witnesses who saw him torture Muggles. All false memories, planted by the real culprit."
"But Pettigrew confessed under Veritaserum!"
"And some will argue that such information was obtained through an unreliable method." Dumbledore set the paper aside. "Others will point out that during the war with Voldemort, emergency powers allowed for immediate imprisonment of suspected Death Eaters."
Harry's fingers dug into the armrests. "So they'll try to keep him in Azkaban? Even with proof he's innocent?"
"No. Sirius Black will be freed." Dumbledore leaned forward. "But some people want to use his case to challenge every wartime conviction. Others want to ensure those emergency powers remain available for future conflicts." He sighed. "And a few hope to limit the damage to only this specific case."
"I don't care about politics," Harry snapped. "I care about justice."
"Justice is rarely simple, especially after a civil war." Dumbledore's voice remained gentle. "If every wartime imprisonment is questioned, some truly guilty people might escape punishment. If emergency powers are completely stripped away, the Ministry might be helpless in future crises."
Harry stood up and paced in front of the desk. "So what am I supposed to do? Just sit and watch while they argue about laws and procedures?"
"You're supposed to understand that justice requires more than truth alone." Dumbledore watched Harry pace. "It requires wisdom to know how that truth should be applied."
"What about the truth that an innocent man spent seven years with Dementors?" Harry stopped pacing. "What wisdom makes that right?"
"Nothing makes it right." Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. "But ensuring it never happens again means changing the system carefully, not tearing it down in anger."
Harry dropped back into his chair. "I want to attend the meeting."
"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "But remember - many people will try to use your influence for their own goals. Some genuinely believe they're fighting for justice. Others..." He trailed off.
"I understand." Harry straightened his shoulders. "When do we leave?"
"The preliminary hearing is in three days," Dumbledore rose from his desk. "That will give you time to prepare."
Harry spent those days in the library, reading everything he could find about wizarding law and the Wizengamot. Charlotte helped him sort through dusty legal tomes while Bill dug up old Prophet articles about the war trials. Even Percy emerged from his self-imposed isolation to share what he knew about Ministry procedures from his father.
Between research sessions, Harry practiced with his quintessence flames in the Room of Requirement. Chrysa watched from a cushioned corner as silver-white spheres flickered into existence above his palms. The transition to five Albedo remained challenging - any loss of concentration caused the spheres to dissipate.
"Focus on the imperfections," Harry muttered to himself, maintaining four stable Albedo spheres. "See what needs to be purified..."
His eyes narrowed as he attempted a fifth sphere. The first four wavered, but held steady. Slowly, the new sphere stabilized, revealing the same pure silver-white light as the others. All five hung in the air, casting no shadows.
Chrysa let out an approving growl. Harry grinned at his lion cub, but kept his attention on the spheres. Five was his new limit - any more caused all of them to collapse. Still, it marked progress.
The morning of the preliminary hearing arrived cold and grey. Harry stood in Dumbledore's office, adjusting the formal robes Nicolas had sent over. They were deep blue with silver trim, cut to fit perfectly.
"Remember," Dumbledore checked his watch, "this session is mainly procedural. The full hearing next week will address the actual evidence."
Harry nodded, scratching behind Chrysa's ears. The cub had refused to stay behind, and Dumbledore agreed she could attend as Harry's familiar. "Will they question me about finding Pettigrew?"
"Possibly. But you're not required to answer anything today." Dumbledore held out a small pot of Floo powder. "Shall we?"
Harry took a handful of powder, then paused. "What if they try to keep him in prison? Even with the evidence?"
"Then we ensure justice prevails through legal means." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "We have more support than they might realize."
Harry threw the powder into the flames. "Ministry of Magic, Atrium!"
Green flames spun Harry through the Floo network until he stepped out into the Ministry Atrium. Chrysa pressed against his leg, growling softly at the crowd of witches and wizards rushing past. Dumbledore walked out from the fireplace behind them, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"This way." Dumbledore guided them toward the security desk. "The preliminary hearing is on Level Two."
Heads turned as they walked. People stopped mid-conversation to stare at Harry and his lion cub. A witch dropped her stack of papers when Chrysa glanced her way. The whispers followed them to the golden gates of the lifts.
A witch with elaborate blonde curls strode toward them, an acid-green quill floating beside her. Her jeweled spectacles glinted as she approached. "Mr. Potter!" she called out. "Care to comment on today's proceedings? How do you feel about-"
"Miss Skeeter." Dumbledore stepped between them. "The press will receive official statements after the hearing."
The lift arrived with a clang. Harry and Chrysa squeezed in beside two elderly wizards who kept shooting nervous looks at the lion cub. The lift descended slowly, and Harry noticed how the other occupants arranged themselves - Ministry workers in one corner, people with top-quality robes in another.
"Level Two," a cool female voice announced. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
They stepped out into a corridor lined with heavy oak doors. More people waited here, gathered in small groups that fell silent as Harry passed. He recognized some faces from the Prophet - Ministry officials, Wizengamot members, old pure-blood families.
A tall old man with sharp features stepped away from the crowd. His elegant black robes, fastened with silver clasps, spoke of old wealth, and his grey eyes studied Harry with genuine interest.
"Mr. Potter," he said warmly. "I'm Arcturus Black. I've been hoping to meet you." He offered a slight but welcoming smile. "Your grandmother Dorea was my dear cousin, you know. The Blacks and Potters have a long history of friendship."
Harry looked up at the elderly wizard. Lord Black's face showed deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, but his grey eyes remained sharp and alert.
"Lord Black." Harry remembered his etiquette lessons. "I didn't know that about my grandmother."
"Few do, these days." Arcturus leaned on an ebony cane. "The war scattered many old alliances." He glanced at the watching crowd. "Perhaps we could speak privately for a moment? These corridors grow tiresome for my old bones."
Dumbledore nodded slightly when Harry looked his way. "Of course, Lord Black."
Arcturus guided them to a small alcove away from the main crowd. His breathing came heavier from just those few steps. "You have her demeanor, you know. Dorea would have been proud to see you standing up for family."
"Sirius is innocent," Harry stated firmly. "He deserves justice."
"Justice." Arcturus smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, do you know why no one questioned Sirius's imprisonment? Why the great House of Black stayed silent when our heir was thrown into Azkaban?"
Harry frowned. "The evidence seemed clear at the time."
"The evidence..." Arcturus coughed, steadying himself on his cane. "My grandson Regulus died serving the Dark Lord. My niece Bellatrix proudly bears his mark in Azkaban. The Blacks were seen as dark, dangerous." He met Harry's eyes. "Who would believe us if we claimed Sirius was innocent?"
"But now-"
"Now we have proof." Arcturus straightened despite his obvious fatigue. "And more importantly, we have you. The Boy-Who-Lived, demanding justice for his godfather." He lowered his voice. "The House of Black remembers its friends, Mr. Potter. And its debts."
Chrysa pressed against Harry's leg, watching the old man carefully. Harry felt the weight of unspoken expectations in Lord Black's words. "What exactly are you asking?"
"Asking? Nothing at all." Arcturus smiled again, warmer this time. "Merely offering the friendship our families once shared. The Blacks may have fallen far, but we still have influence. Resources." He paused. "Knowledge that might prove useful to a young wizard finding his place in our world."
Before Harry could respond, a gong sounded through the corridor. Arcturus sighed. "Ah, they're ready to begin. We'll speak more later, I hope." He turned to leave, then stopped. "One last thing - watch Crouch carefully today. He'll try to bury this under procedure and paperwork."
Harry nodded. "Thank you for the warning."
"Family looks after family, Mr. Potter." Arcturus stepped back toward the crowd. "Remember that."
Dumbledore rejoined Harry as the crowd moved toward the courtroom doors. "An interesting conversation?"
"He said to watch Crouch." Harry petted Chrysa's head, making her purr slightly. "And something about the Blacks remembering friends."
"Arcturus Black was once among the most influential wizards in Britain." Dumbledore guided them through the doors. "Age and circumstance have reduced that influence, but not eliminated it."
Harry followed Dumbledore into the large circular courtroom. Rows of plum-robed Wizengamot members filled the rising stone benches, creating a wall of purple around the central floor. Chrysa stayed close as they made their way to the visitor's gallery.
Dumbledore squeezed Harry's shoulder before heading to the raised platform at the front. As Chief Warlock, he would preside over the proceedings. Amelia Bones adjusted her monocle from her seat beside Minister Bagnold, both women deep in whispered conversation.
Dumbledore struck a small silver gavel once, and silence fell across the chamber.
"Preliminary hearing of September eighteenth, nineteen eighty-eight," Dumbledore spoke clearly. "Regarding the matter of Sirius Black's imprisonment and the capture of Peter Pettigrew." He looked around the chamber. "Are all relevant parties present?"
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is ready to proceed," Amelia Bones stood. "We have prepared initial evidence reports regarding Peter Pettigrew's capture on September fourteenth."
"The Department of International Magical Co-operation requests time to gather additional documentation." Crouch rose from his seat. "Given the serious nature of these allegations, we should review all available records before proceeding further."
"What documentation exactly?" Bones turned toward Crouch. "This is a domestic matter involving British citizens."
"The Dark Lord's followers had international connections," Crouch adjusted his tie. "Several imprisoned Death Eaters made claims about Black's activities abroad. We should verify-"
"Delaying tactics." An elderly witch Harry recognized as Griselda Marchbanks from his research spoke up. "The preliminary evidence is clear enough. Pettigrew lives, which makes Black's conviction questionable at best."
"Madam Marchbanks," Crouch kept his voice steady, "during wartime, many Death Eaters operated across borders. The Rosiers in France, the Karkaroffs in Eastern Europe..." He pulled out a thick folder. "These connections must be thoroughly investigated before-"
"The point of a preliminary hearing," Bones interrupted, "is to determine if sufficient cause exists to proceed with a full review. Pettigrew's capture alone-"
"Was based on the use of Veritaserum," Crouch countered. "A fact that raises serious procedural questions."
"Chief Warlock," a younger wizard in Wizengamot robes stood. "The Department of International Magical Co-operation raises valid concerns. If we rush this review, we risk setting dangerous precedents."
"The precedent already exists," Tiberius Ogden spoke from his seat among the elders. "Emergency powers were meant for immediate threats, not indefinite imprisonment without trial."
"With respect," another Wizengamot member stood, "these measures protected our society during desperate times. Dismantling them requires careful consideration."
Harry noticed several younger members nodding. A witch in the middle row rose next. "The Auror Office still relies on these provisions for ongoing investigations. Any review must consider current security needs."
"The Department of International Cooperation," Crouch shuffled through his papers, "has concerns about how foreign ministries might interpret hasty changes to established procedures."
"This isn't about procedures," Bones countered. "This is about an innocent man in Azkaban while the real culprit lived freely."
"Precisely why we must be thorough," Crouch looked up from his documents. "To prevent such mistakes in the future, we need proper safeguards. International oversight could provide additional perspective."
Lucius Malfoy shifted slightly in his seat. Harry caught the barely perceptible tension in the man's shoulders.
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Bones held up her folder, "has sufficient evidence to proceed now. Pettigrew's capture alone-"
"Raises questions about evidence gathering," a younger wizard interrupted. "If we accept Veritaserum testimony without proper protocols, what prevents its abuse in other cases?"
More nods from the younger members. Harry watched Crouch remain silent, letting others voice these concerns.
"Perhaps," Crouch finally spoke, voice measured, "we could focus our immediate attention on reviewing Mr. Black's specific case. A thorough but expedited process, while broader policy discussions continue through appropriate channels."
Whispers of agreement filled the chamber. Even some of the elder members looked relieved at this apparent compromise.
"A focused review," Ogden nodded slowly. "With all relevant evidence considered."
"The Department would require three days to organize our findings," Crouch added. "To ensure everything is properly documented."
Harry felt Arcturus Black sigh beside him.
"Ah," Arcturus whispered. "Well played, Barty. Well played indeed."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked quietly.
"He just protected every other wartime conviction," Arcturus kept his eyes forward, "while appearing to champion proper justice. Watch - they'll all agree now."
Sure enough, the chamber had shifted. Even Bones looked ready to accept these terms.
Dumbledore surveyed the chamber, blue eyes moving from face to face. "The motion before us is to conduct a focused review of Sirius Black's case, with evidence to be presented in three days." He paused. "Does any member object to these terms?"
Harry felt the tension in the room as everyone waited. Chrysa pressed closer to his leg, sensing his growing frustration.
"What evidence will be permitted?" Marchbanks asked. "Beyond the Veritaserum testimony?"
"All relevant documentation," Crouch answered smoothly. "Arrest records, witness statements, any international intelligence reports..."
"And Peter Pettigrew's questioning?" Bones fixed Crouch with a steady gaze.
"Under proper Ministry protocols," Crouch nodded. "Conducted by licensed officials."
"The original testimony should stand as well," Dumbledore added. "To establish probable cause for this review."
Harry noticed how Crouch's supporters exchanged quick glances. They hadn't expected Dumbledore to preserve the initial evidence.
"A fair addition," Crouch recovered quickly. "We want a complete record, after all."
"Then we shall put it to a vote," Dumbledore raised his gavel. "Those in favor of proceeding with a focused review of Sirius Black's case, to begin in three days..."
Hands rose across the chamber. Harry counted quickly - more than two-thirds supported the motion.
"Those opposed?"
A scattered few hands, mostly from members who didn't seem all that interested.
"Motion carries." Dumbledore struck his gavel once. "The full hearing will convene in one week. Until then, all departments will prepare their evidence according to proper procedures." He looked directly at Crouch. "Without delay."
The chamber filled with movement as members rose from their seats. Harry stayed still, processing what had happened.
"Politics," Arcturus Black spoke softly, "is rarely about winning everything. Sometimes victory means losing the right battles."
"But other innocent people might be in Azkaban," Harry whispered back.
"And that weighs heavily on my heart," Arcturus placed a frail hand on Harry's shoulder, his grey eyes filled with genuine sadness. "But today we've learned how to help them all. First Sirius, then others - each case building on the last, each victory making the next one easier." He squeezed Harry's shoulder gently. "Your father would've been happy that you helped make this a reality."
Harry looked up at Lord Black, studying the old man's face. "You knew my father?"
"I knew your grandmother better," Arcturus smiled, lines deepening around his eyes. "Dorea had quite the temper when roused. You remind me of her, actually - that same fire in your eyes when speaking of family." He leaned more heavily on his cane. "She would visit me for tea every Sunday, even after..." He paused, a shadow crossing his face. "Even after the families began taking sides."
"What was she like?"
"Fierce. Brilliant. And absolutely devoted to what she believed was right." Arcturus reached into his robes with a slightly trembling hand. "I have some photographs, if you'd like to see them. From happier times, when the Blacks and Potters still gathered for family dinners."
"I..." Harry started, but Dumbledore approached from the podium.
"Harry, we should return to Hogwarts." Dumbledore glanced at Arcturus. "Unless Lord Black requires a moment?"
"No, no," Arcturus straightened with visible effort. "I've taken enough of young Mr. Potter's time. Perhaps..." He pulled out a small envelope. "These are copies of some old family photos. You might enjoy looking through them."
Harry accepted the envelope carefully. "Thank you, Lord Black."
"The Black family remembers those who stand by us," Arcturus inclined his head. "Your grandmother taught me that, long ago. Good day, Mr. Potter. Chief Warlock."
Harry watched Lord Black move slowly toward the exit. The envelope felt heavy in his pocket, and questions about his grandmother burned in his mind. He wanted to know more about his family…
"An interesting morning," Dumbledore guided Harry toward the chamber doors. "I suspect you have questions?"
"Crouch got what he wanted, didn't he?" Harry stepped into the corridor, Chrysa padding beside him. "He made it all about Sirius."
"He limited the scope of review, yes." Dumbledore nodded to several departing Wizengamot members. "But in doing so, he showed us exactly how to proceed with future cases."
"Like Lord Black said - one case at a time."
"Precisely." They reached the lifts. "Sometimes the path to justice requires patience."
Harry pulled out the envelope as they waited. Inside, he found several magical photographs. A young woman with black hair laughed at something off-camera, her eyes bright with mischief. In another, she stood between two men in formal robes, one of whom Harry recognized as a much younger Arcturus Black.
"Your grandmother Dorea," Dumbledore peered at the photos. "She had quite the reputation for speaking her mind."
The lift arrived empty. As they stepped in, Harry tucked the photos away into his pocket. "Lord Black said she visited him even during the war."
"Family meant everything to Dorea." Dumbledore pressed the button for the Atrium. "Much like it means everything to Arcturus now."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Consider why he approached you today." The lift began to move. "The Black family has fallen far since the war. Sirius in Azkaban, Bellatrix imprisoned, Regulus dead..." Dumbledore looked down at Harry. "But now they have a connection to Harry Potter."
The lift stopped at the Atrium. "The most effective politics often grow from real emotions."
Harry stepped out into the crowded Atrium, frowning slightly. So many questions… About his grandmother, about the Blacks, about justice and politics and family...
"Ready to return?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded, following him toward the Floos.