331 0330 The Trial

In the grand, cavernous hall of the Wizengamot courtroom, an air of solemn dignity permeated the atmosphere. Seated prominently in the front row of elaborately carved chairs were the high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic:

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Behind these eminent figures sat the heads of various departments and prominent figures from all walks of life in the Wizarding World, their collective presence lending an air of solemnness to the proceedings.

Bryan as a relative newcomer to these halls, hesitated momentarily, uncertainty flickering across his face as he contemplated where he should take his seat. Fortunately, Amelia gestured him over and said, "Come here, Bryan."

The Wizengamot adhered to its own unique set of rules and protocols. Bryan, keenly aware of this, understood that the front row was clearly not intended for him. However, Fudge, his expression one of genuine friendliness, smiled and gestured for Bryan to join them, dispelling any lingering doubts. After a momentary pause, during which he briefly considered the weight of the situation, Bryan shrugged nonchalantly, and made his way up the steps to the raised platform, ignoring the odd looks that followed his unconventional seating arrangement.

The atmosphere here was heavy with solemnity. After taking his seat beside Amelia, Bryan simply nodded in acknowledgment to those he recognized, his silence a testament to the weight of the moment.

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, his gaze sweeping over the rows of seats behind him, confirming with a discerning eye that no one was absent. His piercing blue eyes then settled on Bryan, who sat next to the brooding Bartemius Crouch, a man whose very presence now exuded a palpable aura of coldness. With a gentle demeanor, Dumbledore spoke in a light tone, "Barty, would you like to preside?"

Without a word, Barty Crouch rose, his face grim and resolute, and strode with purposeful steps to the judge's bench, while Dumbledore took the newly vacated seat.

"Let's begin," Bartemius Crouch announced, his tone devoid of warmth, cutting through the hushed silence like a knife.

'Boring-'

Bryan, who had been observing the reactions of the Ministry offi cials with a keen eye, suddenly felt a sense of boredom wash over him. This grand trial, he realized with a touch of cynicism, was nothing more than a farce, with the victors already reaping the benefits of their triumph.

On the opposite side of the platform, a small room stood where the prisoners were temporarily held. As Crouch announced the start of the proceedings, the iron gate of this room made a clattering sound, its echoes reverberating through the chamber as one iron pillar after another slowly descended into the ground, the mechanisms of justice grinding into motion.

Peter Pettigrew, his hands bound by coarse ropes that bit into his flesh, stood trembling as at least five wands were pointed menacingly at the back of his head.

The flesh that he had gained during his time as Scabbers with the Weasley Family had disappeared entirely during his tormenting weeks of imprisonment, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self. Now he looked like a frail twig, a pitiful and withered figure devoid of any semblance of strength or defiance.

As Peter walked from the darkness into the dim light, his eyes immediately widened in terror at the sight of Bartemius Crouch on the high platform and the people sitting in the front row. He immediately began to tremble uncontrollably, whimpering softly, his fear palpable and overwhelming. Had the wands at his head not been urging him forward with their unspoken threat, he likely would have collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap, overwhelmed by the weight of his circumstances.

Bryan heard the surrounding noise suddenly grow louder, as whispers and murmurs swelled like a rising tide. Most people glared at the traitor Peter with undisguised anger, their expressions twisted by rage – rage for the Potters and for the deception they had suffered. The air itself seemed to crackle with their collective fury, a palpable force that threatened to consume the cowering figure before them.

Dumbledore, however, sighed heavily, his previously erect posture now sagging slightly under the weight of some unseen burden. Many eyes were upon him, watching his every move with a mixture of pity and hidden mockery.

A wizard with a bushy, scruffy beard spoke in an angry tone, his voice rumbling with barely contained outrage, "He doesn't deserve any sympathy, Albus--"

"I agree with you," Dumbledore said, blowing his nose in a gesture that seemed to embody his own weariness. His bright blue eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now brimmed with a profound sadness that cut to the very core of those who witnessed it. "But I cannot pretend to be blameless, Coridell. This all could have been avoided."

The clamor subsided as a hush fell over the assembly, some sighing heavily as the weight of Dumbledore's words washed over them, while others furtively cast scornful, disdainful looks towards the Headmaster.

At this moment, the room from which Peter had emerged made a heavy sound of grinding stones, the very walls seeming to groan under some immense weight. Then, Sirius Black was escorted out by Dedalus.

After not seeing each other for nearly a month, Sirius looked much worse than before. It was only natural, considering he had been imprisoned in the deepest part of the Ministry without seeing the sun, and had endured wave after wave of relentless interrogation. No one, not even the most hardened soul, could emerge from such an ordeal unscathed. His features were haggard, his eyes haunted, and his very being seemed to radiate a sense of weariness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion.

The Daily Prophet had by now revealed the truth of that fateful night years ago, so everyone present here knew of Sirius' innocence. The assembly's gazes held curiosity rather than fear – all except for the presiding host of this trial, Barty Crouch, whose expression remained as blank as carved stone.

"Wretched traitor, cowardly scum!" Sirius roared, his voice a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of the courtroom.

The Ministry had kept Sirius and Peter separated during their imprisonment, and today was the first time Sirius had laid eyes upon the man who had betrayed his dearest friends. Forgetting Bryan, who had exchanged glances with him earlier, Sirius's rage boiled over, as an unstoppable torrent of fury propelled him forward in a desperate lunge towards the terrified Peter.

However, Sirius's attempt to tear Peter apart with his bare hands was destined to be unsuccessful. Seeing him pounce, the several Aurors guarding Peter immediately turned their wands towards him, their expressions cold and menacing, a silent warning that any further aggression would be met with swift and unforgiving retribution.

"If you attempt to disrupt these proceedings again, I will pronounce you guilty, Sirius Black!" Bartemius Crouch responded to Sirius's angry glare with an indifferent gaze, speaking without mercy.

Both Peter and Sirius were now strapped to stone chairs that had risen from the ground. The difference was that Peter was almost entirely bound by chains sprouting from the chair.

"Trial of the 27th of February," Crouch began, his voice ringing out with ceremonial weight as he opened the file before him. Though he knew his reputation would be in tatters after this day, his demeanor remained steadfast and upright.

"Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"Court Scribe: Eric Munch--"

Bryan raised an eyebrow in surprise, only now noticing Eric sitting rigidly in an inconspicuous corner, his lips quivering with an excitement that bordered on reverence, as if he were witnessing a sacred ritual unfold before his very eyes.

"The defendant, Peter Pettigrew--"

Bartemius Crouch moved his gaze away from the folder in his hand, his tough eyes fixing upon the pitiful figure of Peter, who was huddled in the chair, his form seeming to shrink under the weight of that penetrating stare.

"You stand accused of revealing the whereabouts of the Potters to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in October 1981, directly leading to their murders." Crouch's voice was merciless, each word a hammer blown upon the anvil of truth. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Forget about defending himself, Peter seemed to be in a state of trance, his mind trying to escape from the harsh reality. He curled up in the chair, trying in vain to put as much distance between himself and Sirius as possible.

"The person who previously bore this accusation was Sirius Black--"

A witch in the back rows suddenly raised her hand to address the court, drawing many eyes, including Dumbledore's. She nodded politely to him with a respectful smile, before inquiring with a voice that carried the weight of genuine curiosity.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, you previously provided evidence proving that Sirius Black was the secret-keeper for the Potters. But now the Ministry is prosecuting Peter Pettigrew for betraying the whereabouts of the Potters. We need to know the details."

The Ministry already knew the truth of these matters, having uncovered the base details through their exhaustive investigations. But according to the ancient regulations that governed these halls, either Peter or Sirius had to explain it to the Wizengamot themselves.

And since Peter was clearly in no state to speak, Sirius had to step forward, gritting his teeth against the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him as he began to recount the fateful events that had set this tragedy in motion.

"Back then," Sirius began, his voice a ragged whisper at first, raw with the weight of remembered pain, "when we learned through intelligence that the You-Know-Who intended to kill James and Lily, Dumbledore suggested using the Fidelius Charm to conceal their location. And James trusted me, so he decided not to trouble Dumbledore and made me their Secret Keeper."

He paused, gathering his strength, for the words that followed were like shards of glass in his mouth. 

"But at the last moment before casting the charm, I suggested they use this rat instead. Everyone knew me as the Potters's closest friend, so I feared You-Know-Who would suspect me as their secret keeper very easily, and proposed to James and Lily that--"

Sirius choked on his words, unable to continue, the agony of that fateful decision crushing the air from his lungs. However, the members of the Wizengamot sitting in the courtroom had already guessed the truth.

In fact, when people saw Peter Pettigrew alive, many things became clear. But the Wizengamot couldn't rely on speculation to determine a person's guilt; they needed cold, hard evidence.

"This is a recorded testimony," Bartemius said, his tone allowing no argument as Dedalus handed over the magically transcribed confession. "During the interrogation of Peter Pettigrew after his arrest, Veritaserum was used to obtain this reliable statement—"

This testimony resolved most of the remaining doubts, detailing how Peter had betrayed the Potters's location to Voldemort, how he had escaped Sirius's vengeance afterwards, and how he had remained in hiding for twelve years.

Listening to the horrors this 'pitiable' figure had committed chilled the Wizengamot members to the bone.

They couldn't imagine that the cowering Peter Pettigrew slumped before them had committed such heinous acts.

"Arthur doesn't know yet--" Bryan overheard someone whispering behind him, "It's dreadful. I'd wager Arthur won't spare any rats in the house after learning of this!"

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