"No, he's mad—this Black—he's gone mad." Peter trembled. "Who knows what you just drank? What if it's poison…"
"That's not your best, old Peter." Sirius's voice was hoarse, flat. "I drank it too. You can find a better excuse."
Peter's voice rose to a shriek. "You could've taken an antidote first! And—who knows—it might be a poison made just for me!"
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow and gave a skeptical snort. Crouch's face was grim, his eyes heavy as they studied the panicking Peter.
Sirius spoke low. "That's beneath you, Peter."
Madam Bones added, "I've never heard of a poison made specifically for a single person."
"Could be rat poison," someone else said drily.
Peter looked up at the dozens of faces. He shook like they were asking him to commit suicide.
"Alright, alright," he said, his voice trembling with feigned resolve. "I'll drink it. I'll do it."
Fudge leaned forward, intrigued. "You will?"
"I will… but!" Peter said. "But you must restrain Black—you see, he wants to kill me. If you don't tie him up properly, he'll do it when no one is looking, when all the attention is on me… when I tip my head back to drink…" He lifted his tear-filled eyes, searching their faces desperately for reassurance.
Fudge said, "I don't see the necessity. In my view…" He glanced almost imperceptibly towards Crouch. "…Black is perfectly sane and would never dream of committing murder in this chamber. Isn't that right, Black?"
Sirius said calmly, "I do want to kill him. He disgusts me. If he gets close, I'll slam him down and bite his throat out with my teeth." He shifted his legs, fingers brushing at the ropes binding him to the chair as if testing them.
Fudge gaped at him. Finally, he said, "Well… in that case, restrain him."
More ropes and spells landed on Sirius, turning him nearly into a statue.
Seemingly remembering Sirius had broken free once already, Fudge gestured to the two Aurors standing in the corner. They lumbered over to Sirius, wands pointed at his neck and head.
Under everyone's gaze, the vial of Veritaserum floated from Sirius's hand towards Peter. Peter stared at the little bottle, taking a deep breath. The buzz of discussion from the judges rose again.
Peter reached out—the chains on his arms clinking and retracting, waiting for him to touch the vial—his hand shook so badly he knocked the bottle, sending it wobbling wildly, nearly toppling to the floor. Peter stood up, arm outstretched as if to catch it—the chains on his legs retracted too—
Peter sprang. He lunged for the small door in the corner—the one he'd entered through. The Auror who had been guarding it was now standing by Sirius.
Sirius roared. Peter shot towards the door, faster than he had any right to be—but Lupin was faster.
Anthony's hand had just touched his wand when Lupin's curse was already flying towards Peter. At almost the same instant, curses from the Aurors and the bench slammed into him. Several witches and wizards stood up. Professor McGonagall held her wand high, chest heaving as if holding back a hex.
Fudge finally reacted, shouting something no one could make out.
A sheet of ice appeared around Peter, making one charging Auror slip. Kingsley swiftly skirted the slick surface, but a wall of fire erupted at the doorway, nearly catching his robes. Luckily, Peter's feet were already stuck to the floor, while his legs grotesquely swelled, sprouting strange, rat-tail-like things. Roger the Snake coiled around his neck. One of his arms bent at an unnatural angle; the bones inside were surely broken. He hunched over in pain, the hand clutching the Veritaserum pressed to his stomach as if his guts were twisting. Tears splattered onto the ice.
A grey-haired witch cried, "Contempt of court!" She aimed at Peter and hurled her gavel spinning through the air. It struck his balding scalp with a thud, leaving an angry red mark.
…
Peter was forced back into the chained chair. Fudge, looking furious, commanded, "Pour the Veritaserum down his throat!"
"How much did Snape even prepare?" Anthony whispered to Professor McGonagall. After that scuffle, he doubted much potion remained.
Professor McGonagall frowned, not answering.
An Auror snatched the vial from Peter's hand, forced his jaw open, and upended the bottle—Peter twisted his head and bit down. The Auror yelped. The small vial tumbled down Peter's throat.
Amidst the gasps, Peter coughed, making choking, gagging sounds. He stretched his neck, retching. The Auror reached to pull it out—but a gurgling sound came from Peter's throat. Then, with a definitive gulp, he swallowed the entire bottle.
The courtroom fell into brief, stunned silence.
Peter's face was deathly pale. "I didn't…" he quavered. A flicker of joy crossed his face. His voice grew louder. "I didn't betray James and Lily! I didn't join the Dark Lord… I didn't!"
Lupin murmured to Anthony, "Not much left, it seems."
"Can the words of such a man be trusted?" Fudge asked loudly, gesturing towards the spell-scarred floor and doorway.
"Do you deny the charges against you, Peter Pettigrew?" Crouch asked.
"Yes, I deny them," Peter said.
His expression suddenly went vacant, his eyes glazing over. But Crouch was looking down at his documents and didn't notice.
Madam Bones asked, "Then what happened in 1981, when Sirius Black met you on the street?"
"Sirius stopped me and said he would kill me," Peter said, his voice unnervingly steady. "I said, 'That was Lily and Potter, Sirius, how could you?'"
Crouch looked up, scrutinizing Peter. Members of the Wizengamot frowned and whispered amongst themselves.
"Is this the truth?" a wizard with a long, straggly beard rasped. He fixed a monocle to his eye and leaned forward, peering intently at Peter below. "Are you speaking the truth now, Peter Pettigrew?"
"Yes," Peter droned.
"Who are you?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
The long-bearded wizard nodded. "The Veritaserum has taken effect. He speaks the truth."
"The potion's finally leaking out," Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath.
A Wizengamot member beside him asked, startled, "What about before? Was that true too? He didn't join You-Know-Who?"
Fudge swiftly turned to look at Dumbledore. Dumbledore said nothing, fingertips pressed together, watching Peter with perfect calm.
Umbridge asked in her girlish, simpering tone, "But, Mr. Ogden, how can one tell if the Veritaserum is working? By answering one's own name?"
Crouch cut her off. "Potions discussions can wait. I trust Mr. Ogden's judgment. Continue, Pettigrew."
"Then I took out my wand, and he took out his," Peter said emotionlessly. "I knew I had to be precise… I blew up the street, killed all the Muggles nearby who might have seen what happened, and blew open the sewer grate. Then I cut off my finger, threw it into the wreckage, transformed into a rat, and escaped down the sewer. The whole thing went as smoothly as I'd planned—"
Someone asked, "You planned it?"
The Wizengamot members, now realizing the potion was only now working, listened with bated breath.
"Of course," Peter said, his eyelids fluttering. "Before James and Lily… happened ("How dare you speak their names!" Sirius growled.)… before the Dark Lord went after them, I'd already packed my things and fled my home. I knew Sirius wouldn't let me go, the Order wouldn't let me go. Luckily, none of them thought to visit me. What I didn't expect was the Dark Lord failing. That meant not just Sirius was looking for me, but the Death Eaters too… I went back immediately to confirm the news, and spent the whole night figuring out how to fake my own death. I was terrified."
"Disgusting!" a witch spat.
A smile actually touched Peter's lips. "To my delight, Sirius never told anyone I was the real Secret Keeper. He went mad, hunting for me, never imagining I'd turned into a rat and was following him… He always overlooked me, so this time was no different. He never thought I had the nerve…" Sirius strained against his bonds. Peter's eyelids twitched again. "Of course, I was terrified. But the more afraid I was, the clearer I knew this was my only option. I followed him to a suitable Muggle street, transformed back, and put on our little show."
Professor Burbage said coldly, "A suitable Muggle street for murder."
Peter continued, "The Ministry arrived as slowly as I'd imagined." Fudge's smile faded slightly. "If Sirius hadn't just stood there laughing, he wouldn't have been caught. I thought Sirius would keep chasing me. By the time he came to his senses, the Ministry would have heard the 'truth' from the Muggles who heard me shout, and the Order would think he'd fled from guilt. He'd have spent ages trying to clear his name. By then, I'd be long gone.
"When I heard he was arrested, I worried for a while. I was afraid he'd spill about the Secret Keeper switch under Ministry interrogation. I lived in the sewers for a bit, terrified, fought another rat for its nest, and then—another delightful surprise! Sirius was sent to Azkaban without a trial!
"So, I wandered as a rat for a while, stealing food from Muggle restaurant kitchens or returning to the wizarding world, climbing onto rooftops to peek at the Daily Prophet over people's heads, until a wizarding family took me in. After that, I lived a life without want."
Crouch stood. "Before this trial, I refused to believe anyone could be so despicable, their crimes so vile. He is not merely a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but a treacherous coward, a cunning liar!" The muscles in his face twitched. "I am ashamed of my erroneous judgment eleven years ago! The facts of that day are now clear—I call upon the Wizengamot to punish this sniveling, hiding wretch with the full severity of the law!"
He sat down.
Fudge said genially, "Don't worry, Barty, we all know how you detest the Dark Arts, and that you never intended such a mistake. Of course, sometimes haste does lead to minor issues…"
The 'minor issue' was glaring at Peter, still looking very much like he wanted to tear his throat out.
"Thank you, Minister," Crouch said. "I believe we may proceed to the vote."
Madam Bones said, "All those who find the charges against Peter Pettigrew—betraying the Potters to You-Know-Who, murdering Muggle witnesses, illegal Animagus registration, and theft from a wizarding household—not proven, raise your hands."
Peter's vacant eyes watched the few hands that went up among the Wizengamot, seemingly not comprehending. As he looked, one hand hesitated, then lowered. Crouch's face was etched with deep loathing.
"All those who find the charges proven."
More hands went up, a forest of them. Dumbledore's hand was among them.
Fudge looked immensely satisfied. He looked around, voice booming. "Charges proven! I move that Sirius Black be exonerated and released, and that Peter Pettigrew, for the totality of his crimes, be sentenced to receive the Dementor's Kiss!"
"I second," Crouch said.
Peter's eyelids fluttered again. He squirmed in his chair. Sirius looked at him, then turned to the spectators. Anthony glanced at Lupin and McGonagall. Professor McGonagall was looking up towards Dumbledore. Lupin watched Peter and let out a soft, almost pitying sigh.
"I object," Dumbledore said. Crouch and Fudge both looked at him as if they'd misheard.
"What did you just say, Albus?" Fudge asked.
Dumbledore repeated, slowly and clearly, "I object."
A wizard sitting below them turned. "I find the charges proven, but I move that Sirius Black be returned to Azkaban, and that Peter Pettigrew be given the finest room at the Leaky Cauldron in recognition of the intelligence he provided leading to You-Know-Who's downfall." He asked in a tone of mock deference, "How does that sound, Albus?"
Fudge looked at him approvingly.
"I object to voluntarily handing anyone's soul to the Dementors," Dumbledore said gravely. "I do not believe anyone—not a single soul—deserves that punishment."
Peter Pettigrew stared up at Dumbledore, expressionless. Anthony felt a pang of guilt, glad he hadn't told Dumbledore about his own soul-eating abilities.
"I'm afraid that is not yours alone to decide," Umbridge squeaked. "Given that Black was wrongly imprisoned for eleven years due to Pettigrew's lies…" Crouch snorted. "…a rather more severe punishment is required to appease public outrage."
Sirius said darkly, "Let me kill him. Then you won't have to worry about souls or miscarriages of justice."
But the Wizengamot members in their plum robes were whispering amongst themselves, ignoring him. Lupin's hand went to his wand again.
After a few minutes, Madam Bones announced, "We will vote. All those in favor of sentencing Peter Pettigrew to the Dementor's Kiss, raise your hands."
Anthony looked up. One hand, then three or four more, hesitant but raised.
Fudge said, "If a crime this despicable is spared the Kiss, what authority does the law retain?"
Slowly, more hands went up. Madam Bones nodded. "Very well, thank you. All those opposed to the Dementor's Kiss."
Only Dumbledore's hand was raised. It remained steadily in the air. After a moment, two more hands went up, reluctantly. The expressions on those members' faces plainly said, This is purely for you.
Fudge said happily, "Vote concluded. The Dementor's Kiss! Take this man—" he gestured at Peter "—to Azkaban to await formal execution."
Wizengamot members began gathering their papers. Dumbledore lowered his arm, stood, and said calmly, "As this is the will of the Wizengamot, I shall not interfere."
Aurors hauled Peter to his feet, dragging him towards the small door. Anthony stood, greeting Professor Burbage as she walked over. Professor McGonagall and Lupin hurried down the steps towards Sirius.
Author's Note
Exam tomorrow, not enough time to review. Hanging up a leave slip as usual. —Bedtime story as usual—
Harry yawned, changed into his pajamas, and climbed into his four-poster bed. Ron was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly in the moonlight.
"What's up?" Harry asked sleepily.
Ron lowered his voice. "Coming back from detention with Filch, I saw Anthony's weird pets walking by the Black Lake."
"Professor Anthony seems to like walking there too," Harry said.
"They were being followed by a big black dog."
Harry was instantly awake, sitting up. "Sirius?"
"Dunno," Ron whispered, still sounding bewildered by what he'd seen. "The dog was blocking them, like it wouldn't let them go somewhere. Anthony's cat didn't like the dog at all, hissing at it. Then Hermione's Crookshanks ran out and got between the dog and the cat. After Anthony's pets left, the dog just started rolling around on the grass. Crookshanks sat there licking its paw."
Harry was silent.
"Sirius wouldn't… roll around, right?" Ron asked. He hadn't seen Sirius's Animagus form, only heard from Harry it was a big black dog.
"No… he wouldn't," Harry said, locking the memory of Sirius wagging his tail around him in a mental drawer and throwing away the key.
Ron sounded relieved, rustling as he slid under his covers. "That's what I thought… His motorcycle is wicked cool though…"
"I'll convince him to let us ride it next time," Harry promised, lying down. Just before closing his eyes, he thought drowsily that Sirius was probably planning another 'surprise' for him.
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