FicWad

The Harry Potter universe is the creation of J.K. Rowling. This is fanfiction. The standard disclaimers apply.


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Chapter 24: A Hearing


Thursday, November 1st, 1990. 6:45 AM.


"Rennervate! Hey Rat, wakey wakey! Time for breakfast!"

Kingsley Shacklebolt hovered some scraps of eggs and bacon, along with a generous amount of rat chow, into the cage on his coffee table, then refilled the rat's water bowl as well.

"Come on, get up, we're going somewhere today and I won't have to take care of you anymore. So you don't know when you'll eat next."

This last was unnecessary, since once the rat finally got moving, it would eat anything Kingsley put in front of it. When Amelia gave the rat to him, she hadn't given Kingsley any instructions beyond telling him "it's an unregistered animagus. I have plans for it. Keep its cage locked, don't let it escape, keep it alive, and keep it secret." And so the rat had stayed in Kingsley's living room for the past month, eating a mixed diet of rat chow and leftovers, and awaiting whatever plans the Director of Magical Law Enforcement might have for it. Kingsley had not grown fond of the rat during this time. When he couldn't look after it, he put a sleeping charm on it. When he was home, he took the charm off, at which point it usually chose to go back to sleep.

Yesterday he had, at long last, gotten the note he had been waiting for:


-------------------------------

Kingsley,

Come straight to my office tomorrow morning. Bring the rat. Disillusion it first.

Amelia

-----------------------------


A few minutes later, after cleaning up in the kitchen, he shrunk the bag of rat chow and pocketed it. No sense keeping it, he thought. "Alright, rat, good thing you eat fast. 'Somnium!'" He put some anti-spill charms on the bowls, rechecked the strengthening and locking spells on the cage, and disillusioned the whole thing. After fumbling around for the now-invisible handle, he picked up the cage and flooed to work.


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"Okay, boss, he's all yours." Kingsley had shut the door behind him, plonked the cage down on Amelia's desk, and disillusioned it. "Here, have some rat chow, too."

"You fed it rat chow?"

"It's a rat, isn't it? And you didn't exactly elaborate on 'keep it alive'."

"No, I didn't. Did it seem to mind?"

"What, the rat chow? The little bugger ate anything and everything I could think of to feed it."

"Hm. I guess it was used to it. I'm told it spent most of the past decade in rat form, posing as somebody's pet. Anyway, you aren't quite free of him yet." She re-disillusioned the cage, as Kingsley gave a look of mixed curiosity and disappointment. "Take him down to holding cell 'B' on the Wizengamot level and wait for me to send for you. Oh, and keep that stupid bag of rat chow with him."


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Half an hour later Amelia was in the waiting area, checking on her witnesses, as the members of the Wizengamot trickled in to take their seats, clutching copies of the Prophet. There was a lot of muttering and grumbling, but most of them had learned that getting information out of Amelia was next to impossible.

She had only briefed Fudge the night before. Right before sending out the notices of the session in the afternoon, she had sent a memo to Fudge telling him not to comment on anything, and promising an explanation later that day. She had been true to her word, floo calling him at 10 PM to 'give him a heads up', ensuring that he would lose sleep over the situation and be more manageable today, as well as minimizing his ability to stupidly leak anything to one of his 'trusted advisors'. Fudge was already in his seat, displaying all the excitement of a man who thought he knew a secret before everyone else.

"Arthur, Percy, are you two okay?" They nodded.

"Rita, I know I don't have to thank you for coming today, since you'd be hovering around out here regardless. I have no idea if we'll need you or not—I'm not planning on calling you myself, but there's a good chance somebody will ask to hear from you. Other than that, you need to stay put and leave the other witnesses alone, if you want to work with my department like this again. Got it?"

"Of course, Madam Bones. Nevertheless, I must object once again to the disgraceful way that members of the press are excluded from the proceedings of our government!"

"You know very well why you aren't allowed in there—otherwise everyone would be looking at you when they talked, and hamming it up for the papers, instead of getting anything useful done. Take it as a compliment, and try not to die of frustration while you're waiting?" She could hear Arthur snickering behind her, and turned around. "And that goes for you too, Mr. Weasley—don't talk to anyone, and don't tease Ms. Skeeter too much."

With that, she turned and walked into the courtroom, the doors shutting behind her automatically. All the seats were full; excellent. Once at the podium, she banged her gavel three times, and looked out at the assembly.

"I have called this session to reopen the matter of Sirius Black. Before we proceed, I must ask your indulgence to the extent of letting me present witnesses without interruption, as I have gone to some effort to prepare my presentation today. You may always call them back later.

As most of you appear to have gathered from this morning's paper, the Ministry has been collaborating with the Daily Prophet in this investigation, as sometimes, even using veritaserum, a journalist can uncover things an auror cannot." She could see Fudge, sitting on her left, relax; she was indirectly giving him credit and covering for his lack of involvement. "The Prophet's lead reporter is available in the waiting area should we require her."

She nodded to the bailiff, who departed towards the holding cells.

"For those of you who have not read the paper, you should know that nine years ago today, the day after the Dark Lord's failed attempt on the life of Harry Potter, Sirius Black was arrested for the murders of twelve muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew. Given the number of eyewitnesses and the wartime footing of the Ministry at the time, Mr. Black was sent to Azkaban directly without a trial. Evidence has come to light casting doubt on the fairness of that decision. Today's hearing will revisit the issue, and hopefully conclude with an outcome which is just, and which fully addresses public doubts concerning the Ministry's honor and competence.

We will now proceed. Bailiff, please bring in Sirius Black." The audience remained silent, but Amelia could see the curiosity on their faces. Even those who had tuned out her little speech now leaned forward to get a better look at the haggard-looking man being led to the witness chair.

No effort had been made to clean Sirius up before trial. Amelia wanted to avoid appearances of witness tampering, and hoped to create sympathy for the man should he turn out to be innocent; both argued for bringing him to the courtroom directly from his cell. The man was rail-thin, hair matted and clothes in rags, skin pale, loose, and blotchy, eyes sunken and haunted. She could smell the stench of Azkaban on him from her podium; witches and wizards in the front row were wrinkling their noses as well. Sirius was obviously weak, almost staggering into the room, but trying his best to move steadily and keep his head up.

He had been removed from his cell only a half hour ago, without warning. Amelia was not entirely convinced of his innocence, having interrogated neither him nor Pettigrew yet herself. If Black was really a dangerous criminal, she would not be seen later as having taken unnecessary risks.

The auror escort indicated the chair; Sirius sat down, and additional sets of manacles were added to those he had been led in with. She waited as the clerk made a show of producing a bottle of veritaserum and placing three drops of it on the prisoner's tongue.

Everyone waited silently for nearly a minute, watching in fascination as the symptoms of the potion appeared—subtle, but perceptible, on a man who had spent nearly a decade in Azkaban. When the clerk nodded to her, she began her questioning.

"Would the prisoner please state his name for the record?"

"Sirius Black."

"Mr. Black, today we will be asking you about the events leading to your imprisonment nine years ago. This proceeding is not a trial, but at its conclusion the Wizengamot may at its discretion vote to declare you innocent, should that be proven here today. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Very well. When did you first meet James and Lily Potter?"

"Our first year at Hogwarts, I think. I'm not sure."

"When did you last see Lily and James Potter alive?"

"It was a few days before they died. I'm not sure."

"Where were you when you last saw them?"

"At their house, in Godric's Hollow."

"And was there a specific purpose to your visit?"

"Yes."

"What was that purpose?"

"To change secret keepers."

"So, their house was under the fidelius charm?"

"Yes."

"And you were at some point the secret keeper for that spell?"

"Yes."

"At which times were you the secret keeper for that spell?"

"Up until that last night I saw them. I think it was first set up a few months before that. I don't remember when."

"So until the last night you saw them alive, you were the only secret keeper for the fidelius charm on their house, correct?"

"Yes."

"And on that night, the secret keeper was changed, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Who made the decision to change it?"

"James."

Amelia knew she was building up suspense unnecessarily, but she didn't care -- this was her show.

"During the time you were the secret keeper, who did you tell the secret to?"

"Well, there was James, Lily, Peter, Albus, Remus, Alice and Frank, Hagrid . . . I'm pretty sure that was it."

"Did you ever tell anyone about the secret without getting explicit permission from James or Lily?"

"Maybe Remus? No one else."

"Who became the Potters' secret keeper after you?"

"Peter." Definitely some startled looks from the audience, no gasps or other noises, though.

"Did James tell you why he wanted Peter to be the secret keeper?"

"Yes."

This aspect of questioning under veritaserum could be very useful for presenting evidence in exactly the order you wanted, but it could also become damn irritating.

"And what was his reason?"

"He thought I was too obvious, and no one would guess it was Peter."

"Before James and Lily died, did you tell anyone that Peter was the new secret keeper?"

"No one."

"To the best of your knowledge, did James or Lily tell anyone the secret keeper had changed?"

"No. They said they weren't going to tell anyone else, not even Dumbledore." Albus, relegated to his regular seat in the Wizengamot while the DMLE head was presiding, raised his eyebrows, then quickly composed himself. He had agreed to stay out of the proceeding, but only after considerable browbeating by Amelia.

"Thank you. I'm going to ask you a more open-ended question now, and I want you to answer only with facts you know to be true. No speculation or opinion. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Please tell us what you did on the day James and Lily died, up to the time of your arrest the next day."

"Ohhhh . . . I spent most of that day in hiding. That night I went to check on Peter, at his place. He wasn't there. He was supposed to stay put. The thing that worried me was that the place didn't look like there had been a fight—it was like he had just gone out. So I left to warn James and Lily, but when I got there, the house was destroyed. I went in through the rubble and found James dead in the living room, and Lily, dead, upstairs with Harry. I picked up Harry and went outside, and at that point Hagrid showed up, and said Dumbledore had sent him, and that Dumbledore had felt the spell breaking. That is, Dumbledore had cast the fidelius originally. I still don't understand how that worked.

Hagrid said he was supposed to take Harry to his relatives—Lily's sister—and we argued about that but I eventually gave in, because I couldn't really take care of a baby. I loaned Hagrid my motorcycle, and they left.

After that I went to hunt down Peter, because I thought he had betrayed James and Lily. I caught up with him the next day, and I yelled something at him, I don't remember what. He looked scared, and didn't say anything, and we started firing curses at each other. Then there was a huge explosion and he was gone, and there were a lot of dead muggles. I just stood there and waited for the aurors to show up."

"Did you have actual knowledge that Peter Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters."

"I don't know. He must have told someone, since he was the only one who could. And when I found him he just tried to get away, and didn't reply to what I yelled at him. If he were innocent he could have just said he didn't do it."

"Thank you, Mr. Black. We will call you back later after we hear from some other witnesses. Bailiff?"

Amelia waited until Sirius was out of the room. "Albus, would you please come forward?" The clerk swore Dumbledore in; there was no point in using veritaserum on him.

"Before today, when did you last see Sirius Black?"

"A few days before Halloween, 1981. He was still secret keeper then so far as I know."

"Until this investigation began several weeks ago, were you aware that the Potters had changed secret keepers?"

"No, I was not. No one told me at the time."

"At the time of Mr. Black's arrest, did you believe he was guilty of killing Peter Pettigrew?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"And did you believe he betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord."

"I did. As I said, I thought he was their secret keeper, and that they would tell me if they changed it."

"That will do for now. You are dismissed for the moment, but you remain sworn in, and I will call you back shortly."

"Of course." Dumbledore calmly returned to his seat.

"Bailiff, please bring in exhibit A. Ladies and Gentlemen, again I ask you to please indulge me and avoid interruptions. The Ministry has gone to some effort to arrange this hearing, and I hope we can be forgiven a little showmanship." She gave a faint smile, which Fudge echoed. Good.

The bailiff returned, followed by Kingsley, who was carrying the rat cage in one hand and the bag of rat chow in the other. He set both down on the evidence table. The rat remained asleep, presumably charmed. "Thank you. Please bring in Arthur Weasley."

When Mr. Weasley was sworn in and had stated his name, Amelia asked him to look closely at the rat. "Are you familiar with this rat?"

"Yes, I think so. That looks like Percy's cage, and those look like our bowls." Arthur noticed the bag of rat chow, and Amelia could see him struggle to maintain a straight face. "We never used that brand of food, though. Anyway, it has a bald spot on the back, annnd, yes, yes, the missing toe."

"When did you first see this rat?"

"It just showed up at our doorstep one day, maybe eight years ago, and it seemed tame, like it had been someone's pet but had been abandoned. When I got back from work that day, it was still there, so I asked my kids if any of them wanted to keep it as a pet. Percy agreed, so we put it in a box, and went out and got the cage for it."

"Thank you. You are dismissed. Bailiff, please bring in Percy Weasley."

That done, she questioned the boy.

"Yes, Madam Bones, this is Scabbers. I mean, I named him Scabbers, and I recognize him." Percy gave a puzzled look at the bag, but said nothing.

"And when did you last see him, before today?"

"About six weeks ago. I had brought him with me to Hogwarts, and his cage was next to my bed. One day Fred and George came to me and said Dumbledore had been in to search my things, and when I got back, Scabbers was missing."

"Thank you, that will do for now. Albus?"

The old wizard got up and stodd next to the cage, smiling.

"You removed this rat yourself from Percy Weasley's dormitory, did you not?"

"That is correct."

"And what led you to do this?"

"An anonymous tip, in the form of a note. All it said was that that the rat had some interesting properties, that I should treat it as a dangerous dark artifact, and that I should bring Minerva McGonagall with me when I retrieved it. The note, alas, was of the sort that burst into flame after being read." There were some suspicious looks in the audience; Amelia herself had to agree that this seemed very convenient for Albus, if he had something to hide.

"And you were, in fact, accompanied by Professor McGonagall when you did this?"

"I was."

"And it was she who discovered the hidden properties of this rat, was it not?"

"It was!"

"Very well." Amelia visibly took a deep breath, and walked down and around until she was next to the cage. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain calm, and indulge us by staying silent. Kingsley, please stand by, just in case." With as much flair as she was able, she drew her wand and used it to unlock the large padlock on the cage, swung the door open, and hovered the rat into the air in front of her audience. "Note that this rat is under a sleeping charm." She hovered the sleeping rat into the witness chair, stood to the side, looked out at the chamber, and looked at Fudge, who nodded.

In quick succession she fired off the bright white spell to make an animagus transform, and the instruction to the chair to put its manacles in place. "Clerk, please hand me the veritaserum. I would like to do this personally. Thank you." With a technique perfected by years of auror work, she opened Pettigrew's jaw and placed three drops of veritaserum on the back of his tongue, then closed his jaw and cast a spell to make him swallow.

"We will give that a minute before bringing him to. In the meantime, I will fill you in on my own role in this investigation. After examining this man himself, Albus Dumbledore secretly turned him over to me in the Hogwarts headmaster's office. I was aware at that point of the Prophet's plan to interview Death Eater prisoners in Azkaban, and decided to let that play out without revealing that we had an additional witness in custody. The Ministry made a deal with the Prophet such that the paper would publish their article on the same day as this hearing, which happens to be the nine-year anniversary of the events we are investigating today.

Neither Mr. Black nor this witness were interrogated under veritaserum before this hearing. This prisoner before you is my last witness, so please bear with me for a few more minutes. I will open this proceeding to questioning from the floor soon enough. Now," she said, turning to Pettigrew, "that should be plenty long enough. Rennervate!"

Pettigrew yawned, opened his eyes, and jumped in place as he saw the sea of people watching him. The Wizengamot chamber was unmistakable, and the strange taste on his tongue could only be veritaserum. He was almost grateful for the potion, actually, because without its effects he knew he would panic and make a fool of himself. This way he at least had a chance to give misleading but true answers.

A woman walked in front of him; evidently she was in charge of this hearing. She was looking into his eyes. He tried not to meet her gaze.

"Please state your name."

"Pe-pe-pe-peter Pe-pettigrew." This was apparently a revelation to the audience, there were gasps and startled looks.

"I will get right to the point. Did you reveal the location of James and Lily Potter to Voldemort or his allies?" Amelia noticed the audience was too engrossed to make a fuss over the Dark Lord's name; good.

"Y-y-y-y-yes."

"To the best of your knowledge, did Sirius Black ever betray James or Lily to Voldemort or his allies?"

"No."

"And when did you last see Sirius Black?"

"The d-d-day we f-fought in the street, after J-James and Lily died."

"That fight ended in a large explosion, right?"

"Yes."

"Was that explosion caused by a spell you cast?"

"Yes."

"And you then slipped away in your animagus form?"

"Y-yes."

"Do you know where Sirius Black has been between that day and today?"

"In-in-in Azkaban." Peter looked dejected, even with the effects of the potion.

"And why do you think he was there?"

"Because everyone th-thought he murdered me and all those muggles."

"In the explosion that you caused, you mean?"

"Yes."

"And you are, in fact, still alive?"

"Y-yes?" He looked up, decided (correctly) that he was being mocked, and looked back at the floor.

"One last question. How did you lose your finger?"

"I cut it off in the fight, before running away."

Amelia turned her back, returning briskly to her podium, letting her plum-colored robes billow out behind her. Once there, she briefly glanced over the faces watching her. "Thank you all very much for your patience. This hearing is now open to questions from the floor, so long as those bear upon the guilt or innocence of Sirius Black. We will have separate hearings later regarding what is to be done with Mr. Pettigrew here, or any other related matter that may arise, but for now the Ministry is keenly interested in resolving Mr. Black's case as expeditiously as possible." She glanced at Fudge, who nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Doge?"

"Have any of these witnesses been checked for memory charms?"

"Good question. I have personally checked both of the Weasleys we heard from today as well as Mr. Pettigrew, and found no evidence. Albus informed me that he did the same at the outset for those three, and also found nothing. Mr. Black has been examined by several aurors, but not by me personally or by Albus. We can recall any of the witnesses to be reexamined here, if you wish. Mrs. Longbottom?"

"Surely nine years in Azkaban, or posing as a pet rat, must have some effect on one's grasp of reality. I move to send a summons to St. Mungos for healers able to evaluate all of the witnesses, including the Weasleys, for mental tampering and sanity, and to adjourn the hearing for lunch while that takes place."

"I second that!" chimed in Fudge.

"Very well. All in favor of having the witnesses examined while we take a two hour break?" An overwhelming number of hands went up.

"Motion passed—Kingsley, take Pettigrew back to his cell. Bailiff, go sequester the Weasleys and Ms. Skeeter. Now. The time is now . . . 11:09. Please be back here by 2; we will reconvene shortly thereafter. Session is adjourned." She banged the gavel three times and sat down, exhausted. She waited for the clerk to finish shuffling papers, then asked him to arrange for lunch to be brought to everyone compelled to remain behind.

As she braved the crowd on the way back to her office, she saw Fudge grandstanding in the waiting area. She was in fact grateful to him for that, as it diverted attention and left her free to escape. She might actually thank him later.


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Amelia had returned home for lunch, not wanting to be around the office where anyone could come bug her. She later learned that Lucius Malfoy had taken Fudge out to lunch, finding a restaurant in Diagon Alley where they would be as visible as possible. That seemed reasonable enough—he didn't want to be seen panicking, and it was a chance to grill the Minister for information. She presumed Malfoy would be disappointed to discover how little Fudge actually knew. Or, alternatively, and perhaps more likely, Fudge would simply make stuff up and not bother telling her about it. Exasperating, certainly, but nothing she hadn't dealt with competently before.

The afternoon session of the Wizengamot went relatively quickly. The healers reported nothing wrong with the Weasleys or Rita (who was no doubt indignant about being examined, but hid it well), and found that Black and Pettigrew were free of memory charms. As to their grip on reality, the healers diagnosed them both with a wide variety of psychological issues, but none that would cast doubt on their competence to testify. The deciding factor for most members seemed to be the congruence between their stories, despite not having seen each other for nearly a decade.

Amelia had been planning a motion to simply release Black, but Dumbledore had moved for a vote on his actual innocence, which the chamber had overwhelmingly passed. At that point Amelia brought the session to a close. She explained that the Ministry wanted more time to prepare its case against Pettigrew, and that trying him on the spot would risk the same sorts of mistakes they had made with Black. No one objected to this—just because the Wizengamot was largely unelected didn't mean they liked seeing themselves criticised in the press; most of them wanted to at least seem like upstanding members of society.

Her last pressing concern for the day had been to figure out what to do with Pettigrew. She didn't like the practice of sending people to Azkaban before trial, but Kingsley's living room was no longer an option, and in this case she was worried both about the prisoner escaping and about someone trying to kill him off before he could reveal secrets. She was pretty sure, from Dumbledore's report, that there were no further secrets to be wrung out of him, but the public didn't know that, and she was concerned about the political repercussions should he be assassinated while in ministry custody. She would, of course, tell everyone that Pettigrew was being sent to Azkaban for his own safety, in the hopes of making Malfoy and his cronies squirm. The cage and rat chow went into an evidence room; she thought Fudge's press people would want them for a photo op.

She had an unfortunate setback, though, when her counterparts at Azkaban Security Officials and Very Important Wizards refused to accept the prisoner transfer, saying they lacked facilities to hold a rat animagus, and would not take responsibility for him unless the Ministry agreed to pay for a long list of renovations they wanted. The hastily-sketched out list was ostensibly all because of Pettigrew, but there were some vague items on there that might turn out to mean "employee bonuses and new furniture for the staff room." It was a clever tactic, if exploitative, since, under the circumstances, public opinion would fall squarely behind giving the Azkaban staff everything they asked for. She would talk to Fudge about it in the morning. For now, Pettigrew was staying in his holding cell with a 24-hour guard, and she was going home.


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Dumbledore had personally taken Sirius back to 12 Grimmauld Place, Arthur and Percy in tow, just to make sure he was okay. Sirius, for all the toll Azkaban had taken on him, had rolled his eyes and laughed when Dumbledore suggested he check himself into St. Mungos. "Right, because what I really need now is to be locked up in some soulless institution. Of course." Dumbledore admitted he had a point.

They were now standing on the doorstep, trying to get inside. "Well, here we are. Does the door open automatically for you, Sirius? Okay, Alohamora! What's this?"

As the door swung open, a large brown owl came from behind them, a letter tied to its leg. The rush of air from its wings ruffled the curtains hiding the portrait of Sirius' mother. The curtains immediately drew back and Mrs. Black started shrieking about her "good-for-nothing blood traitor son." The owl, panicked, veered to the far wall, nearly crashed into it, veered towards the stairwell, where it was spooked by the mounted heads of two dozen house elves, and swooped into the dining room, where they found it sitting on a chair back, shaking its feathers and clicking its beak in irritation.

"Look at that! I'm a free man for half an hour and already I'm getting fan mail!" Sirius had to walk around the table to get to the owl, who wasn't interested in going anywhere for anybody at the moment. "Damn it. You know, if James or Remus were here, they would have followed that up with how the girls must have seen my photos and been overcome by my dashing good looks, and that they hear the starved, dirty, haunted look is in this year. Thanks," he said, untying the letter from the owl, "and sorry about my mother." He was rewarded with further beak clicking, and what might have been a glare.

The other three waited, struggling to read the expressions of a man whose emotions had been twisted by dementors for nine years.

"It's from Dora, my cousin. She's at Hogwarts now . . . she says this is a Hogsmeade weekend coming up and I should come see her, and that she's not allowed to go stalking any more celebrities if it means getting her mother involved—what does that mean?—but that she thinks family ought to be an exception. Harry!" Dumbledore managed not to react; it would make sense if Nymphadora were the one to go look for Harry, since Sirius was his godfather. Yes, that made sense. "She says he's staying with the Longbottoms, and that I should go see him, because I'm the closest thing he has to real family. Way to lay the guilt on there, girl! I'll do it, though—I feel terrible for not being there for him while he was growing up."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "If I might point out, Harry is still only ten years old. He hasn't even started at Hogwarts yet, and thus has a great deal of growing up left."

"Damn it all, though, I missed so much. You know I haven't seen a paper since 1981, right?"

"Arthur, could you go see if the floo is working?"

"Sure."

Sirius, evidently having finished the letter, folded it up and put it in his pocket. "I think the first order of business is for me to go get cleaned up, and see if I have any clothes around this place. Actually, I hope the shower's still working."

"Well, the floo isn't," reported Arthur, returning from the drawing room.

"Darn. Albus, that's one of the school owls—do you mind if I give it some letters before it goes home?" The owl, smart enough to know when it was being discussed, looked back and forth between the men.

"Oh, of course. May I also suggest seeing whether your mother's house elf is still alive? 'Kreacher', I believe?"

"What, before he surprises me in the shower, wailing about blood traitors and worried that I won't mount his head on the wall when he dies? No, if he's alive, he can stay wherever he's lurking."

"A house elf would know, for instance, if there were any food in the house."

"Oh, right, food. I think I remember what that is. Yeah, I'll worry about that eventually. Let me go see something . . . damn, you know, I used to be able to run up these stairs two at a time. Hang on . . . water's on in the bathroom, so the shower upstairs probably works." He began carefully working his way down again, then decided to just sit on the stairs. "Honestly, Albus, I've just spent nine years being watched over, and while I infinitely prefer you and Arthur to a bunch of dementors, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself here, even without getting a new wand yet. Just leave me the owl and I'll be fine."

"I suppose I can't argue with that. I must admit, no one has ever described me as 'preferable to a dementor' before. Of course, it's still a lot nicer than many of the other things I've been called over the years."

Sirius laughed, possibly for the first time in a decade. "It's not quite an Order of Merlin, is it? I could get you some sort of medal, but then everyone else would want one too, and I wouldn't be able to say no to most of them. Not quite worth it to be able to say 'No, Malfoy, you really are that annoying.' Seriously, though, and I am always Sirius, I'm going to go stand in the shower, or perhaps the bath, for about an hour, and then traumatize Kreacher by walking around the house nude while looking for something to wear. Unlike my hypothetical adoring female fans, you probably don't want to be around for that. Owl, you stay there." With that, he headed back up the stairs.

"Arthur, I can take Percy back with me to Hogwarts. Thank you very much for coming along. I can't say I'm happy about leaving Sirius alone like this, but I don't think anything bad will happen as a result either. Percy, say goodbye to your father, and meet me on the front walk."


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Kreacher did, in fact, turn up while Sirius was in the shower, waiting silently where he would not be seen until Sirius stepped out, and then making a show of screaming in surprise. Sirius, not to be outdone, screamed louder. It was exhilarating.


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"Oh, do calm down, I'm sure the sniveling fool knows nothing of use." A half dozen men were meeting in Lucius Malfoy's drawing room. Most of them looked anxious. Lucius did not.

"You must admit, that was a rather narrow line of questioning, and assuming Bones was telling the truth, that was the first time they had used Veritaserum on him."

"Really, Lucius, that's the sort of hare-brained thing they'd do, saving it for the trial, just to make a show of it."

Lucius sighed. "Remember he was apprehended by Dumbledore? Who is an accomplished legilimens? Dumbledore would have taken as much time as he needed before contacting the Ministry. If Pettigrew had any secrets, Dumbledore now knows them, even if Bones doesn't."

"Well, what if Dumbledore wrote out the questions beforehand—scripted the whole thing—to hide whatever he wanted to hide?"

"Oh, surely Dumbledore had some clever little scheme and was manipulating everyone involved. I would consider it suspicious if he didn't. In any case, I am convinced Pettigrew himself makes no difference to any of us. He was never privy to any secrets. At this point, he would at best be an untrustworthy spy, if he were released, given his animagus form."

"So did we just come here for you to tell us to calm down, or is there anything you think we should actually worry about?"

"Ah. Yes. What I want to know is who, if anyone, tipped off Dumbledore, and whether that was the same person who tipped off the Prophet or the Ministry. If it were the same person, knowing both that Black was innocent and that Pettigrew was alive, that person would have to know quite a bit. I freely admit I was unaware of Pettigrew's animagus form, and I genuinely thought Black had killed him." He considered this for a moment. "Even if I had known those things, I would have left both of them where they were. So, if we are to believe their story of the anonymous notes, and I can't say I do, that would imply someone with inside knowledge who decided that it was time to change the status quo after nine years. Why now?"

"The only thing that changed was Harry Potter getting rescued from those muggles."

"I think it's just as likely that they were all part of the same plot."

"But Lucius, didn't rescuing Harry make Dumbledore look bad? He really didn't seem like he was in control of that."

"Perhaps he wasn't, but he could easily have instigated that himself. There might be any number of sensible reasons why he might want to do it that way. Even more if, as I suspect, Dumbledore is not in fact motivated by sensible reasons." There were chuckled from around the room; Lucius scowled. "Don't underestimate the man—he plays the crazy old wizard role exceptionally well. What if, let us imagine, he wished to distract the public, so that they wouldn't suspect him of having orchestrated the whole thing with Black. He has now made himself look fallible, and the public will remember that for a few months and then forget about it by the time the next exploitable crisis arises. He could have controlled the timing as precisely as he liked, too—imagine that he simply noticed the rat on his own last year, and read Pettigrew's mind for several days back then, before obliviating him so well St. Mungo's can't find it.

And what about Harry? Dumbledore has convinced the public, and presumably Harry, that he knew nothing about how those muggles were behaving. Remember, if Dumbledore thinks the boy is a useful tool, he's gong to want to control him. Let the muggles beat him up until right before Hogwarts, then stage a rescue! He apologizes for not checking on him, looks properly contrite, and then pulls the grandfatherly act so that the boy feels bad for him and trusts him. Now, that all sounds crazy, and I'm not saying you or I would engage in something like that, just that we would be unwise to put it past Dumbledore.

In any case, the problem is that if he made up a story about a note, then tipped off the Prophet with another note, he could then insinuate there is some disaffected Death Eater out there, even though the parsimonious explanation is that all of these events have the fingerprints of Albus Dumbledore all over them." Apparently finished, he returned to sipping his brandy.

"Honestly, Lucius, that sounds like a stretch. A Slytherin would pull that stuff. Dumbledore manipulates people, sure, but he's not so subtle as you're making out."

"I'm not saying he's subtle. I'm saying he's insane."

"Doesn't he want us to think that?"

"Of course! But we're not living in a fairy tale where trying to convince everyone that you are crazy is a sure sign of your grip on reality. It isn't."

"So what do you think we should do?"

"We should, of course, claim that Dumbledore is a responsible, well-informed, and powerful wizard, who surely must have checked on Potter several times a year. We will say he would not have let a friend go to Azkaban without getting his side of the story, and that he would of course have noticed an animagus in his school." Lucius smiled. "You may, without fear of controversy, assert that Albus Dumbledore surely must have had excellent reasons for everything he did, and no one will ask you to speculate in public as to those reasons."

"It would be nice to know, though, what he's up to."

"No! He _might_ have in fact been clever. I agree that we can't rule that out. It is just as likely, though, that he is an old fool who made one miserable mistake after another, and had to rely on anonymous tips for anything to go right."

"Damn it, Lucius, this isn't clarifying anything!"

"That is because it is not, in fact, clear to me either!"

Everyone sat in silence for a while.

"Gentlemen, if I may change the topic, do we know if anyone has questioned those muggles?"

"Why, Amycus, that is a truly excellent idea, and I admire your initiative in volunteering to hunt down Harry's relatives yourself. When you find them, why not send Skeeter after them? It's what Dumbledore would do."


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Author's notes:

'Rennervate' is J.K. Rowling's retcon of 'ennervate'. 'Somnium', and probably other stuff, comes from _Methods of Rationality_.