"Hehehe~" Sirius Black's wand was already raised, and Lupin's hand rested on his own.
Peter Pettigrew lay slumped on the ground, desperate whimpers stuck in his throat, leaving only heavy, terrified gasps.
"Wait!"
A firm voice rang out, abruptly breaking the suffocating silence.
Everyone looked up in astonishment. It was Harry.
His expression was complicated, but he stood resolutely in front of Black and Lupin, facing the fury in their eyes.
"Harry?" Black's wand paused. He stared at Harry in disbelief, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. "He betrayed James and Lily! He caused us to—"
"I know!" Harry raised his voice, cutting him off. "I know he deserves to die! His death wouldn't be enough. I hate him more than anyone. But…"
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His gaze swept over every Professor present before finally settling on Sirius. "But we can't just kill him like this. Sirius…"
He spoke the name with a trace of awkwardness. "If you kill him now, you'll be a fugitive forever. People will only remember Sirius Black as a traitor and a murderer. No one will ever know the truth."
Black's body trembled violently.
Harry went on, every word striking home. "We have to hand him over to the Ministry of Magic. We have to let everyone know the truth. Only then can you regain your freedom. Only then can you live with dignity, instead of carrying the stigma of a fugitive for the rest of your life."
The common room fell silent, with only Peter's terrified sobs faintly echoing from the corner.
Lupin took a deep breath, the tension in his body slowly easing. There was relief in his gaze as he looked at Harry, along with approval and even a quiet sense of pride for his best friend's son.
He lowered his wand.
"Harry…" Black's voice was hoarse. He took a step forward, as if he wanted to embrace him, but then stopped. Standing there, he looked at Harry for a long moment before lowering his head. "You have more courage than any of us… Harry… It's just that I don't deserve it… and Peter doesn't either."
Peter, who had been slumped on the ground, had already closed his eyes in despair, waiting for death. Now, as if clutching at a final piece of driftwood, an astonishing will to live suddenly burst out of him.
He scrambled on all fours to Harry's feet, tears and snot streaming down his face, his voice shrill and piercing.
"Harry! Kind Harry! You're right! You can't kill me! I… I can testify! I can tell the whole world! Tell the Ministry of Magic! Black is innocent! Of course, I was forced too! I'm willing to repent! I'm willing to go to Azkaban for a hundred years! A thousand years!"
He babbled incoherently. Then, as if a "brilliant" idea had suddenly occurred to him, a sickly gleam flashed in his beady eyes.
"Or… or I'll never turn back into human form. I'll just be a rat, a truly harmless mouse! For life! I'll be Ron's best pet! No! Everyone's good pet! I'll be very well behaved, very obedient! I'll never do anything bad again! Please, let me be a Rat. I promise I'll be a good rat…"
His fawning display was more nauseating than anything he had done before, filling everyone present with a deep sense of revulsion.
"If you do better as a rat than as a human, that's really nothing to be proud of, Peter," Black said scornfully.
Peter froze instantly, as if struck by an invisible hand.
"Justice will prevail."
Dumbledore's gentle voice broke the silence. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over everyone before finally settling on Black. "This is not only for Sirius, but also for everyone who has been deceived and harmed by Peter Pettigrew's lies."
"As for you, Harry," Dumbledore continued softly, "you have shown courage and wisdom that rise above hatred. That is no easy thing."
He turned to the others. "Now, please assist in escorting Peter to a secure location. I will write to Minister Cornelius Fudge at once and inform him of everything."
"Severus, please prepare some Veritaserum. I believe Minister Fudge will require irrefutable evidence."
Dumbledore then looked at Sagres. "Sagres, please help keep a close watch on Peter and ensure he cannot make any further moves."
The Professors moved into action immediately.
Dumbledore returned to his office and took out a piece of parchment and a quill. He walked to the small table by the fireplace and began to write swiftly.
Dear Cornelius,
Regarding the case of Sirius Black, an extremely significant turning point has occurred. We have obtained irrefutable evidence proving that the true culprit who betrayed the Potters and caused the explosion that killed several Muggles was not Black, but Peter Pettigrew.
Pettigrew concealed himself for many years in his Animagus form and has now been exposed and apprehended on the grounds of Hogwarts…
...
Bang!
Fudge slammed Dumbledore's letter onto his desk, his corpulent body trembling violently with rage.
"Absolutely outrageous!"
His face shifted from red to white, then from white to green, and finally to a dark, purplish black.
He suddenly leapt to his feet, pacing wildly around the office like an enraged rhinoceros.
He waved the letter, spittle flying as he roared, "Black isn't dead? Peter is the traitor? Then what about the newspapers I published? What about the assurances I gave the public? A colossal joke? Dumbledore, what do you take me for, a fool? A puppet to be played with at will?!"
He snatched up a copy of The Daily Prophet from his desk, stared at the photograph of himself on the front page, proudly waving, and felt the blood rush to his head.
With a furious motion, he crumpled the newspaper into a ball and hurled it at the wall.
He had only just gone to great lengths to cover up the scandal of Black's "body" disappearing with the lie that "the remains had been cremated," and had even used The Daily Prophet to trumpet Sagres's "achievements" and his own "wise leadership."
Now Dumbledore had sent a letter demanding that he overturn everything.
Not only would he have to admit that Black was alive, he would also have to acknowledge that the Ministry of Magic had made a colossal mistake all those years ago, wrongly arresting a "hero" while letting the real culprit escape.
Worse still, he would have to convict Peter Pettigrew, who had already "sacrificed" himself and even received the Order of Merlin, First Class, for it.
"The Order of Merlin, First Class, awarded to a traitor? This is the biggest scandal in the history of the Ministry of Magic! My political career…"
Fudge grabbed a silver inkwell from his desk and hurled it at the wall, black ink splattering everywhere.
"FUCK! What a disgrace, what a disgrace! To exonerate a criminal who spent twelve years in Azkaban, and to condemn a hero who received the Order of Merlin, First Class. Oh Merlin, why do I always end up dealing with things like this!"
He roared and cursed, hurling every breakable object in his office.
He hated Dumbledore for withholding information and keeping him in the dark.
He hated Sagres for his "fake death" plan, which had placed him in such a passive position.
He hated Sirius Black for not actually dying.
And he hated Peter Pettigrew even more, for hiding like a rat.
But as the initial fury ebbed away like a retreating tide, and he looked at the wreckage scattered across the floor, Fudge deflated like a punctured balloon and slumped back into his large Minister's chair.
He covered his face with his hands, a wave of dizziness washing over him.
Dumbledore's letter was not a request, but a notice, an unavoidable demand. The Professors of Hogwarts were all witnesses.
With irrefutable evidence in hand, he had no choice.
If he attempted to delay or suppress the matter, the consequences would only grow worse.
Once Dumbledore revealed the truth directly to the public, Fudge would be nailed to the pillar of shame, and his position as Minister would likely be truly finished.
Admitting his mistakes, humiliating as it was, would at least keep the situation within the bounds of "internal correction."
"Rufus!" Fudge suddenly slammed his hand down on the intercom, roaring hoarsely. "Get Dolores Umbridge to see me immediately! Now! And bring the most elite escort team to Hogwarts…"
After cutting off the intercom, Fudge slumped back in his chair, staring blankly at the ornate chandelier on the ceiling, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.
He needed time to think about how to deal with the impending public outcry, how to minimise the damage. Perhaps he could push all the responsibility onto "errors in the investigation at the time," then emphasise the Ministry of Magic's "courage" in admitting its mistakes and setting things right.
He rubbed his temples irritably.
The immediate priority was to comply with Dumbledore's demands.
He picked up his quill and, with trembling hands, began to draft a new announcement.
He had to get ahead of Dumbledore, or at least move in step with him, to control the flow of information.
After being toyed with so thoroughly by the people at Hogwarts lately, his political instincts had almost been honed to perfection. His previous manoeuvres had never been this smooth.
________
o(*≧▽≦)ツ💫 Read up to 12+ chapters in advance on P@treon/DarkDevil1