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The gavel struck, signaling the start of the trial.
Madam Bones stood at the judge's bench, flipping open the case files and looking down at the prisoners below.
"Sirius Black III, there is ample evidence that starting in your fifth year at school, you, along with Peter Pettigrew and James Potter, unauthorizedly studied Animagus transformation, successfully transformed, used it illegally for an extended period, and failed to report it... violating Sections 4, 7, and 13 of the Animagus Registration Act. You are now being prosecuted in accordance with the law. Do you have any objections?"
"The facts are true, no objections."
"Twelve years ago, in the winter, the wizarding world faced a major upheaval. Wizards were celebrating with parades across all of Britain, and the Ministry couldn't effectively manage or guide the residents. Taking advantage of the Aurors' lax oversight, you unauthorizedly pursued Peter Pettigrew, initiating a reckless life-or-death duel, chasing him recklessly, shifting the battlefield, and causing a major magical exposure incident that ultimately led to the deaths of twelve Muggles!"
Bones's tone was stern: "Do you have any objections?"
"The facts are true, no objections."
"After the incident, you lingered at the scene, refusing to reveal the truth about the Potters' deaths, obstructing the arriving staff from investigating the cause, and misleading the Aurors into wrongly believing Peter Pettigrew, resulting in him being erroneously awarded the Order of Merlin... Do you have any objections?"
Sirius hesitated for a moment, pausing briefly: "I didn't intend to obstruct the investigation subjectively, it was just..."
"There was no obstruction of Ministry staff; Sirius suffered a severe blow, was himself deceived by Peter Pettigrew, and was in a state of mental breakdown, unable to respond normally to external stimuli."
Madam Marchbanks in the jury spoke in an aged, calm tone.
A murmur rippled through the vast courtroom. What Madam Marchbanks said was factual—friends and spouses killed due to one's own mistake, the person blinded by rage, thinking revenge would end it all, then left despondent. Putting themselves in that scenario, they couldn't claim they'd handle it calmly and make the best decision.
"Order!"
Court clerk Crouch banged the gavel: "The second charge is temporarily set aside for internal jury discussion later. The trial continues."
"Now, onto the third charge."
Chief Judge Madam Bones said gravely: "During your incarceration in Azkaban, you had objections to the original sentence but never appealed in twelve years. Upon accessing external information and realizing Peter Pettigrew was lurking near Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, you didn't immediately inform the Ministry. Instead, you exploited a loophole in Azkaban using your illegal Animagus form, escaped without authorization, disrupted the Ministry's normal operations, created panic, and caused adverse effects on both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Do you have any objections?"
Sirius pursed his lips: "I... no objections."
"Very well!"
After listing the three charges clearly and logically, the courtroom fell silent.
Sirius sat in the locked iron cage, half his face hidden in shadow, expression unclear. Those Phoenix Order members supporting him held their breath, hearts in their throats, waiting for the verdict.
Madam Bones conferred with the jury and chief judge for a while, soon reaching a decision. She cleared her throat and said solemnly:
"Defendant Sirius Black III disregarded the law, acted impulsively, and caused a mid-level magical exposure accident with heavy casualties. Based on discussions between the Ministry's Enforcement Office and the Wizengamot, the following sentence is issued."
She banged the gavel: "Fine of 1,700 Galleons, five years in Azkaban."
Sirius's head drooped, a few tears falling onto the cold iron chains as he slumped in the cage.
"Given the Ministry's investigative negligence, which resulted in Black already serving twelve years, the Enforcement Office issues compensation in accordance with the law, offsetting the fine amount, waiving the prison term. After jury discussion, it is changed to compensation for the Muggle victims' families, with a three-year ban on leaving the country."
Dumbledore looked at the quiet courtroom and explained with a soft chuckle: "In other words... released on the spot!"
Immediately, Aurors emerged from the corners, unlocking the cage, removing Sirius's chains, and escorting him out through a side passage.
Thunderous applause erupted from the wizards in the gallery, cheers spreading like waves.
Madam Bones's charges were factual, as was the Ministry's negligence. Within the bounds of the law, this poor wizard had gotten the best possible outcome.
Some Ministry staff clapped vigorously, their faces showing hidden pride.
With Fudge and Umbridge in power for three years, enforcing those inhumane laws, they hadn't felt proud of the Ministry in ages; some elderly wizards even felt moved—this was the purpose for which the Ministry was founded and sustained.
"Click..." Flashbulbs went off.
Rita, wearing the Daily Prophet badge, captured the moment in time.
Madam Bones smiled, genuinely approving her own decision to remove Fudge, steering the wayward Ministry back on track.
"Next, the trial of Peter Pettigrew begins!" She banged the gavel, restoring silence to the courtroom.
Peter heard the deafening bang of the gavel and involuntarily looked up ahead, his gaze landing on an old woman in the gallery. His pupils dilated suddenly. Even a ruthless Death Eater, standing in the cage facing his only family, still felt breathless.
The torches on the walls flickered slightly. It no longer felt like a dim, cold courtroom; he seemed plunged into a tormenting lava hell, unable to face the old woman's scorching gaze. This overwhelming shame and humiliation grew stronger, nearly driving Peter mad.
At some point, a faint warmth flashed on his inner arm, and suddenly the world went quiet, as if he'd detached and fallen into another realm. He saw Madam Bones's lips moving, but heard nothing she said.
The people neatly seated in the gallery looked excited, supporting Bones and the Ministry with their actions, clapping and cheering vigorously. Each time a charge was stated, applause shook the floor.
The second half of the trial ended in less than fifteen minutes. Peter didn't catch his sentence—something about revoking the Order of Merlin, life imprisonment in Azkaban.
If anything stood out clearly, it was those people's jubilant faces and the old woman's dim, disappointed eyes.
Madam Bones cleared her throat: "Everyone here, please trust the Ministry—we will never frame an innocent person, nor let any dark wizard go free!"
Given the Ministry's behavior over the past two years, these words weren't very convincing, but considering the hated Fudge and Umbridge had just been ousted recently, and an uplifting trial had just concluded, they were willing to wait and see.
After a brief silence, led by Madam Marchbanks, the entire Wizengamot jury applauded warmly. In the gallery, led by Bagman, everyone stood and clapped, even Melvin joined in, though his applause seemed a bit perfunctory.
He knew the truth behind these events and admired wizards like Madam Bones, but obviously, the Ministry wasn't a fairy tale world. A group of passionate wizards could hardly change the world, especially with Voldemort's return looming.
But at least no one would be holding them back anymore.
...
Hogwarts, Abandoned Classroom.
Winter was nearly over, but the snow hadn't thawed yet. The wind was biting, and students huddled in places with fireplaces—the common rooms or Great Hall. The castle corridors were silent on weekends.
The window was half-open, Harry standing by it, looking at the dirty snow on the grounds. Sunlight reflected off the Black Lake's icy surface, the biting north wind blowing softly against him.
What did Professor Trelawney's prophecy really mean? Was Voldemort truly about to return?
Just then, Ron pushed open the classroom door, his red-haired head poking in: "Harry, you had Nick call us over—is it because you know the trial results are out?"
"Sirius was released on the spot, Peter got life." Hermione pushed the door fully open, stepping in lightly and handing him a fresh-inked envelope.
"Sirius acquitted! Awesome!"
Harry read it over and over. The anxiety from that prophecy eased under the wave of joy. He couldn't help asking: "The headmaster and professors aren't back yet—where'd you get the letter?"
"Mr. Flume from Honeydukes sent it. I left a note on my candy mail-order—he saw the news on the Mirror and wrote back." Ron beamed, thrilled with himself.
Harry paused, glancing at him: "Why didn't you write to Madam Rosmerta?"
They all knew Ron had a crush on the pub owner. On Hogsmeade weekends, he'd always hover at the bar for food and drinks, chatting about nothing, while Rosmerta saw him as a kid, but Ron loved it.
"Why didn't you guys remind me sooner!" Ron's smile froze, full of regret.
No one cared about his teenage woes. Hermione looked at Harry, eyeing his slight frown: "Harry seems worried. Sirius was released— what's still bothering you?"
"It's not about Sirius, it's Professor Trelawney's prophecy..."
Harry took a deep breath and started recounting what happened after leaving the common room: "Right around the corner by the Barnabas the Barmy tapestry, I ran into a tipsy Trelawney. She was acting weird—I think she made a real prophecy. She said..."
...
Half an hour later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried out of the classroom, racing to the eighth-floor headmaster's office, discussing the prophecy they'd just heard from Professor Trelawney along the way.
"The trial ended half an hour ago—the headmaster and professors should be back soon. We'll wait at the office." Ron's tone was anxious.
Hermione's face was doubtful, her mind conflicted. She really struggled to decide if the prophecy was Trelawney's drunken rambling or a true glimpse of the future.
Did she drop the wrong class?
Harry caught Hermione's hesitation. He wasn't entirely sure about the prophecy's truth either, but said while jogging: "Better safe than sorry... Tell the headmaster and professors the prophecy—they can figure out if it's real."
"Yeah..." Hermione nodded.
The three bounded up stairs, rushed through corridors, and soon reached the headmaster's office door.
The gargoyle statues had shifted poses—their fangs and claws retracted, arched backs relaxed and slumped over the bases. The oak door's lock was undone.
Listening closely, faint conversation came from inside.
Ron didn't bother knocking, pushing the door open and freezing in place, mouth agape in surprise.
The room's decor had changed a lot—plush toys on the shelves, the old black-gray curtains swapped for sky blue and pink. The antique alchemical items on the racks were cleared, replaced by a Mirror.
If not for the headmaster portraits on the walls, someone unfamiliar might think it was a kid's room.
Harry and Hermione followed in. Near the desk, Dumbledore was pouring tea, Professor Levent standing by the window.
"I take it you already know the trial outcome?" Dumbledore looked up, smiling at them.
"Mr. Flume passed the word—Sirius released, but we're not here for the trial." Harry blurted out a string of words, like something was chasing him.
"Harry ran into Professor Trelawney half an hour ago. She was acting strange, like she made a real prophecy..."
Hermione's summary was straightforward: "Trelawney said Voldemort's servant is about to break free and help Voldemort return."
Melvin and Dumbledore exchanged a glance. To the three students, the two professors wore similar smiles, not surprised at all—almost too calm.
"Not just return!" Harry stared into the professors' eyes: "And his power will be greater than ever before."
"Having brushed so close to death, with the soul undergoing subtle changes, his magic could indeed grow stronger." Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully.
"Professor!" Harry couldn't understand their calm.
"Even if this is a real prophecy, so what?" Melvin suddenly asked.
"Voldemort's about to return—he's coming back soon."
"I mean, that might not be such a bad thing." Melvin said calmly.
Harry and Ron blinked, not getting Professor Levent's point.
"We all know Voldemort isn't truly dead. His soul can still manipulate fallen others—dark wizards like Quirrell could return to Hogwarts anytime..."
Melvin pushed open the window, letting the cold wind rush in, making Ron shiver:
"Rather than always defending against a half-dead Voldemort we can't touch, a living one might be easier to deal with. Maybe we can kill him for good. Don't you want to avenge your parents by killing him?"
Harry stood stunned, a burning heat surging from his chest, overpowering the cold wind, making his head buzz as he replayed the professor's words.
"Besides, whether the prophecy's real or not, you've got something more important to do."
"What?" Harry looked up blankly.
"Give your godfather a hug." Melvin pointed to the inner room of the office. Sirius had arrived at some point, his lean figure standing there, eyes brimming with tears.