The next morning, Hermione and Victor were sitting beside Harry's bed in the hospital wing. He looked far better than the previous night — considerably less like someone who had nearly been kissed by a Dementor.
"Strong mind, Harry," Victor said. "Most people wouldn't have woken up this quickly after a Dementor attack."
Harry shrugged awkwardly. "Professor Dumbledore told me you were the one who came after me. Thanks, Victor."
"No need to thank me. That's what friends are for."
Hermione's foot came down on his leg the moment the words left his mouth.
Victor flinched. "What the hell, Hermione?"
She folded her arms and glared at him. "You know exactly what that's for. Do you have any idea how worried I was when you ran after those Dementors into the Forbidden Forest?" Her voice rose slightly.
"You disappeared into the woods chasing Dementors, Victor. I thought you were going to die. And you haven't even apologized."
Victor opened his mouth. She didn't let him.
Harry watched them from his pillow with a quiet smile. No matter what happened, Hermione and Victor somehow always ended up here.
Before Victor could defend himself, a sour voice cut in from the next bed.
"Can somebody show some concern for me?"
All three turned toward Ron. He was sitting up with his injured leg propped on several pillows, looking deeply offended by the entire situation.
"I got attacked too," Ron said. "A giant dog bit my leg. Why does Harry get all the attention?"
Hermione and Victor looked at him, then at each other.
"That must have hurt," they said simultaneously, expressions completely straight.
Harry immediately laughed. Ron looked genuinely betrayed.
"Harry, don't laugh."
***
Inside the Headmaster's office, the atmosphere was considerably more serious than usual.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk while Snape stood nearby with his arms folded.
Across from them sat Bartemius Crouch Sr., who had arrived at Hogwarts personally after receiving Dumbledore's message. The moment the Ministry learned that Peter Pettigrew was supposedly alive, the matter had ceased being routine.
Crouch's expression remained stern. "Albus, I hope you understand the magnitude of the claim made in your letter."
"I do," Dumbledore replied calmly.
"I don't believe you do." Crouch leaned forward.
"For twelve years Peter Pettigrew has been recorded as deceased. Sirius Black was convicted for his murder along with the deaths of twelve Muggles."
"If Pettigrew is alive, the Ministry's entire case against Black becomes questionable."
"Which is precisely why I asked you to come."
Crouch was silent for a moment, then looked toward Snape. "You saw Pettigrew yourself?"
"I did."
"And you are certain?"
"I attended Hogwarts with Peter Pettigrew for seven years," Snape said coldly. "I know what he looks like." His expression became slightly more unpleasant. "Unfortunately."
Crouch seemed satisfied. "Where is he now?"
"The Hogwarts dungeons," Dumbledore replied. "Held under guard until the Ministry takes custody."
Crouch exhaled slowly. At least that prevented another disaster — the last thing the Ministry needed was Pettigrew escaping after being declared alive.
"What exactly happened?"
Dumbledore explained the events of the previous night. By the time he finished, Crouch looked deeply troubled.
"If Pettigrew was alive all this time..." He didn't finish the sentence. Nobody in the room needed him to.
After a long silence, Crouch spoke again. "Then Sirius Black may be innocent."
The words sounded strange even as he said them. For twelve years the wizarding world had treated Black's guilt as unquestionable fact.
The idea that he might not be responsible felt almost absurd, yet the evidence pointed in that direction.
Dumbledore folded his hands. "I have believed for some time that the full truth had not been discovered."
Snape said nothing. His expression had become unreadable.
Crouch rose from his chair. "I will question Pettigrew personally. If his testimony confirms what you have told me, the Ministry will have no choice but to reopen the entire investigation." A faint frown crossed his face.
The sentence lingered in the air.
Dumbledore studied Crouch for a moment.
"And what will the Ministry do?"
Crouch's expression hardened. He knew exactly what Dumbledore was asking.
Sirius Black was no ordinary prisoner. He was the heir to the House of Black, one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain.
Disowned or not, his bloodline remained the same. If it became known that the Ministry had locked him in Azkaban for twelve years without a trial, the consequences would be difficult to contain.
During the aftermath of Voldemort's fall, arrests had been made at a frantic pace. Fear had made people willing to overlook many things.
Twelve years later, that excuse would not hold nearly as well.
Crouch folded his arms.
"If Sirius Black is proven innocent, his conviction will be overturned and all charges removed from Ministry records."
Dumbledore said nothing.
"The matter will not be publicly announced."
A brief silence followed.
"There is no advantage in informing the public that the Ministry imprisoned the wrong man for over a decade," Crouch continued. "The fallout would be considerable."
"The truth has a tendency to emerge regardless," Dumbledore replied.
"Perhaps. That does not mean the Ministry needs to advertise its own mistakes."
The argument was politically sound.
The newspapers would seize on the story immediately. Political rivals would demand inquiries.
Old convictions would come under renewed scrutiny, and families of other prisoners would begin asking questions the Ministry had no desire to answer.
Crouch met Dumbledore's gaze.
"Sirius Black will receive his freedom. His wand rights will be restored, his assets returned, and his name cleared." The words sounded reluctant even as he spoke them. "There is no reason to make a public spectacle of it."
Dumbledore remained silent for a few moments before giving a slight nod.
"For now, I suppose that will suffice."
*****
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