A single sharp rap of the gavel was all that it took to quiet the hundreds of people.
Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, studiously avoided fiddling with the thick files piled neatly to one side of the small desk in front of her. Instead, she used the opportunity to peer around the large, tiered circular court room.
A hundred and one seats, situated across the lower three tiers, ringed the clear stone area set aside for the accused. Nearly every seat was filled with the Head of either an Ancient House, a Noble House or by the holder of an Order of Merlin, first class. Of the seats that were missing their Head, either due to the heir being too young or for some other reason, she held hopes that one, at least, would be filled by the end of the day.
Above the three tiers reserved for the Wizengamot, rose a further five tiers, all set aside for the public. To her left, on the lowest of those tiers, congregated the press contingent. She frowned as she noticed the slight pushing and shoving that was going on as each one tried to find the best position to both see and hear the coming proceedings.
"This session of the Wizengamot will come to order," the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore intoned.
Dumbledore was seated in the largest, grandest gilded chair in the room. Amelia, as was her right as both the Head of the DMLE and the Chief Prosecutor, sat to his immediate right. On his other side, green bowler hat placed precisely in the centre of his own desk, sat the portly figure of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
"We are here today for the trial of one Peter Oliver Pettigrew," Dumbledore continued. "Aurors, bring in the accused!"
Amelia watched as a short, pudgy, balding man was led through the far door by three maroon robed men. Two of her aurors kept their wands trained on Pettigrew as they led him across the stone floor. At the last second, Pettigrew seemed to baulk and, with a massive shake of his head, tried to back away from the wooden chair. It seemed to sense his reluctance for the chains that adorned its sides and legs rattled ominously.
A pair of hands, one from each auror, shoved the small man in the shoulder blades. Pettigrew squawked as he stumbled forward before being jerked backwards into the chair. Immediately, the chains slithered around both arms, across his chest and wrapped around his legs.
Meanwhile, the third auror had magically sealed the door that they'd entered through before conjuring a two foot high circular wall around the accused chair. Amelia nodded in approval as she inspected the wall. It was perfectly slick and topped with multitudes of razor-sharp metal points.
Shifting her eyes to Pettigrew, Amelia studied him closely. Sweat dripped off of the sides of his face, just like it did every time that she'd questioned him over the past two weeks. He was swallowing hard and continuously. His beady eyes flickered around the room before widening as they came to rest on one particular spot. Seeing him begin to shiver in fright, even more than usual, Amelia turned in her seat.
It only took her a few minutes before she saw what had captured Pettigrew's attention. A thin man with ginger hair starting to go grey sat in the highest tier. His intent eyes were fixated on Pettigrew. He wore old, threadbare brown robes. Her eyes flicked to the bare seats to either side of him and she made a mental note to find out his identity later.
"Peter Oliver Pettigrew, you stand accused of betraying the location of and indirectly causing the deaths of James Charlus Potter and Lily Evans Potter, of passing sensitive information to the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort, of being a member of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters, of the deliberate murder of twelve muggles and of being an unregistered animagus," Chief Warlock Dumbledore stated.
A jumble of voices, both mumbles and shouts, broke out around the chamber causing Dumbledore to resort to banging his gavel before he could continue.
"How do you plead?"
Pettigrew's eyes darted about the courtroom, his tongue licking his lips, before finally, he stuttered an answer.
"G...g...guil...guilty."
The outcry this time, not only from the Wizengamot itself, but also from the higher galleries, was almost deafening. Shouts of outrage, cries of vengeance, bellows of retribution and abuse were hurtled at the small man. Flashes of light erupted from the journalists sending great spouts of purple smoke billowing high into the domed chamber.
Dumbledore's gavel this time wasn't enough to calm the outrage. In the end, the Chief Warlock was forced to stand, raise his wand and let loose a deafening cannon blast before quiet returned.
"Your guilty plea has been noted, Mister Pettigrew," Dumbledore intoned. "Before we consider sentencing, I believe that it would be best to hear what led you to these actions. Madam Bones?"
With a nod, Amelia rose from her chair.
"Chief Warlock, Minister, fellow members of the Wizengamot, guests," she began, nodding to each individual or group before turning her attention to the man in the chain-wrapped chair.
"Mister Pettigrew, before we begin, I'd like to remind you that you and I have had numerous interviews, conducted with the use of veritaserum. This means that I know the answers to the questions that I am going to ask. Will you answer truthfully now, or do we need to dose you with veritaserum once more?"
Pettigrew's head dropped as he shook it resignedly back and forth.
"Very well. We will begin with your involvement with the dark wizard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Are you one of his Death Eaters?"
"Y...yes," his voice was barely audible, so, with a nod, Amelia had one of her aurors cast a sonorous on the man.
"When did you become a Death Eater?"
"Thirty-first of May, nineteen eighty-one."
"Why did you become a Death Eater?"
Amelia noticed Pettigrew's eyes flick up to the man in the top tier before answering. "I ... I was approached by ... by some Death Eaters to ... to become a spy for ... for the Dark Lord. If I didn't agree ... if I didn't agree, they were going to kill me."
"Did you knowingly pass information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named how to find James and Lily Potter who were in hiding under the fidelius charm?"
"Y...yes," he replied in a voice so low that if it wasn't for the sonorous, Amelia was certain that not even the two aurors standing right behind him would have been able to hear him.
A rumble of voices erupted around the courtroom at this announcement, only to be silenced moments later by the Chief Warlock's gavel.
"Please explain how you were able to give He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named this knowledge."
"L...Lily and ... and James and ... and Sirius ..."
"This would be Sirius Black?"
Pettigrew nodded his head. "They decided to try to trick the Dark Lord by making me Secret Keeper instead of Sirius like everyone expected."
"For the record," Amelia's voice rose over the crowd, "you were the Secret Keeper for Lily and James Potter and not Sirius Black?"
"Yes."
At her signal, the auror closest to the door stepped forward, a long thin glass case held out before him. A single wand lay inside it.
"This wand, identified as being thirteen and a half inches long, yew, with phoenix feather core was found in your possession. Is this your wand?"
Pettigrew flinched away from the wand, a look of utmost terror on his face. "N...no."
"Whose wand is it?"
"Th...the D...dar...dark L...lords."
The crowd's eruption lasted through the gavel and half a dozen of Dumbledore's cannon bursts before Amelia was able to continue.
"How did it come to be in your possession?"
"I ... I found it after ... after what happened that ...that night and took it to keep it ... keep it safe until he ... until he returns," Pettigrew replied.
"Please tell us about your last encounter with Sirius Black."
"Sirius came after me. He knew what I'd done. He knew that I'd betrayed them," Pettigrew's head had dropped, the picture of complete defeat as he intoned the story. "When he caught up to me, I knew that he was going to kill me. So, I did the only thing that I could think of. I shouted out that Sirius had betrayed Lily and James and, before he could do anything, I sent a blasting hex at the street behind me. In the confusion, I cut off my finger, transformed and escaped."
"Please tell us what your animagus form is."
"A ... a rat."
"You got that right!" a vicious snarl erupted from the top of the chamber.
"How did you become an animagus?" Amelia asked.
"James, Sirius and Remus helped me at Hogwarts. We could all transform," he stated.
"James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin could become animagus as well?"
Pettigrew nodded. "James was a stag. Sirius, a big black dog. Remus ... Remus wasn't an animagus."
"Very well. Where have you been in the last eleven years since you faked your death?"
"I found a wizarding family and have been hiding out as their pet rat."
Amelia turned to face both the Minister for Magic and the Chief Warlock. "Gentlemen, that concludes the questions that I had originally had for Mister Pettigrew. I believe that his answers verify his guilt. If I may, though, I have one or two additional questions that I'd like to ask."
The two wizards shared a brief look before Dumbledore waved one hand towards her. "You may proceed, Madam Bones."
Turning back, Amelia took a deep breath. What she was about to do would either be one of her greatest accomplishments or one of her greatest mistakes.
"Mister Pettigrew. I have seen that you have the Dark Mark on your left arm. Is it possible to be branded with the Dark Mark unwillingly?"
Pettigrew recoiled from her question, his eyes darted around the chamber, seemingly pausing in a number of different places.
"N...no."
Once again the room erupted but Amelia ignored it, pushing forward with her next, most vital question.
"Do you know the names of any other Death Eathers?"
A nod was her only response.
"Please name them."
"L...lucius M...malfoy, S...sev...severus Sn...snape, Gregory G...Goyle , ..."
"Chief Warlock, Minister, I must protest! The man is obviously lying! These accusations were refuted years ago!"
Amelia turned to see exactly what she expected to see. Lucius Malfoy, his long white hair flying around his shoulders, cane grasped in one hand, was leaning intently down from his seat. Around him, people stared and backed away, doubt clear in their eyes.
"Yes, yes, I am aware of that, Lucius," Fudge replied.
"Severus Snape is innocent. I have already given evidence to this fact," Dumbledore intoned. "No. These last questions and remarks will be ignored. Madam Bones. If you do not have any more questions which pertain to the charges at hand, then we will proceed to the sentencing."
With a stiff nod, Amelia retook her seat. She'd hoped, oh how she'd hoped, but in the end, she knew what the outcome was going to be. Without getting her hands on Malfoy and his ilk and dosing them with veritaserum, a procedure that had been denied the DMLE at the end of the war due to what she believed to be some very obviously greased palmed, then her hands were tied.
"Members of the Wizengamot," Dumbledore continued, "you have heard Mister Pettigrew's confession and declaration of guilt. This negates the need for a vote on his innocence or guilt. We will move straight on to sentencing. For the level of charges, there are three options for sentencing." With a flick of his wand, a transparent sphere was conjured above Pettigrew's head for each option as it was outlined. "Twenty years imprisonment in Azkaban. Life imprisonment in Azkaban. Kiss by Dementors. Please cast your vote now."
Around her, the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot raised their wands and shot a jet of magic into the sphere of their choosing. With each jet that hit, the floating spheres turned a slightly deeper shade of red. By the time that the last vote had been cast, it was easy to see the decided upon sentence.
"Peter Oliver Pettigrew. By your own admission, you are declared guilty of all charges. You are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment on Azkaban Island. Aurors, take him away."
As the three aurors stepped forward, Amelia rose from her seat.
"Chief Warlock, Minister, fellow members of the Wizengamot," she declared in a loud voice to gain their attention. "The testimony that we've heard today has indicated that a great injustice has been carried out upon one of our own. Sirius Black, who, if he was with us today, would be the Head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, was sentenced to Azkaban Prison without a trial for crimes that he did not commit. He has been there for nearly eleven years. I move that we bring him before us at the first possible opportunity."
"I second that motion," the regal voice of Augusta Longbottom stated from where she stood.
For the briefest of instances, Amelia could have sworn that a look of utter contempt and anger passed across the face of the Chief Warlock, but the presence of his beard made it hard to tell.
"All those in favour?" Dumbledore asked.
Around the room, nearly every wand of the Wizengamot was lit and raised.
"Motion passed," Dumbledore declared. "At the earliest convenience, Sirius Black is to be brought before his august gathering."
"Actually, Chief Warlock," Amelia said quickly seeing his hand moving towards his gavel, "Sirius Black is currently in one of my holding cells in the Ministry. I can have him here in less than ten minutes."
"In that case, we will recess for ten minutes," Dumbledore declared with a sharp rap of his gavel.
Just as she'd predicted, less than ten minutes later, a filthy, emaciated man shuffled into the courtroom. His long black hair and beard were still matted with dirt, blood and who knew what else from his time in Azkaban. His greying tatters of clothes hung limply on his body.
With a prod from one of his guards, he was directed to sit in the chair in the centre of the room. Surprise etched his face when the chains rattled but refused to bind him in place.
"Sirius Black, you have been brought before the Wizengamot in relation to events surrounding the death of Lily and James Potter on the thirty-first of October, nineteen eighty-one and the death of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles on the first of November nineteen eighty-one," Dumbledore began.
"I didn't do it! I'm innocent!" Sirius rasped.
"Evidence has recently come to light to support your innocence, Mister Black. In fact, we have just finished a trial where the real culprit, Peter Pettigrew, confessed to all charges and was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban Prison," Dumbledore continued.
"Then ... then, I'm free?" Sirius asked wide-eyed.
"Indeed you are."
"Just a moment, Chief Warlock," Fudge interrupted. "During Pettigrew's trial, he stated that Black here was an unregistered animagus."
"Indeed he did. Mister Black?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yeah, yeah I'm an animagus," he replied nervously.
"The fine for being an unregistered animagus is set at one thousand galleons. In addition, you have forty-eight hours to register with the appropriate department," Dumbledore declared.
"If I may, Chief Warlock?"
Amelia looked across to see Madam Longbottom standing, waiting to be acknowledged. At the Chief Warlock's gesture, she continued.
"Mister Black was arrested and sent to Azkaban Prison without trial and has been remanded there for nearly eleven years. This is a travesty and should never have happened. To think that anyone could have suffered such at the hands of the Ministry of Magic is outrageous. And then to find that he is simply given a fine for a minor infraction. No apology. No compensation. I believe that we can do better than that. In fact, I insist that we do better than that!"
Murmurs of agreement swept the chamber.
"You are, of course, correct, Madam," the Chief Warlock stated simply. "Mister Black. On behalf of the Wizengamot and the Ministry of Magic, we offer you our sincerest apologies for what you have been forced to suffer."
Amelia noted with a raised eyebrow that Sirius Black seemed remarkably unimpressed by the offered sentiments. She would, too, if she'd been in his place.
"And the recompenses?" Madam Longbottom asked.
At this, the Minister of Magic slowly rose from his seat. "Mister Black. As compensation for your time spent in Azkaban, you will be given fifty thousand galleons."
An angry murmur swept through the chamber, a sentiment that Amelia also shared. Fifty thousand galleons for nearly eleven years? There was no way that that seemed fair in the slightest.
Obviously understanding the feeling in the chamber, Fudge quickly continued. "Fifty thousand galleons for each year spent in Azkaban."
Amelia gave a stiff nod. It still in no way made up for the lost years, but it was better.
"Now that that matter has been finalised, I declare this session of the Wizengamot closed," Dumbledore stated with a final rap of his gavel.
Immediately, Amelia moved down to the centre floor.
"Sirius," she began, only to be cut off by the man himself.
"Amelia, thank you, thank you so much for what you've done," he said, tears pooling in his eyes and beginning to slide down his cheeks to meet his jubilant smile.