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HRA# CHAPTER 193
🕑 Added 2025-07-21 03:17:46 +0000 UTCEven using his toes to think, Harry could guess who this old woman was, her hatred for him so blatant it was practically written on her face—Mary, the mother of Peter Pettigrew.
He hadn’t expected her to jump out and sue him first. Considering James’s description of Peter’s character and the fact of his betrayal… well, it could only be said that it ran in the family.
“Damned little beast, you should’ve died under Voldemort’s wand like your cursed father, not colluding with a Death Eater to tarnish my poor son’s reputation—you’re defiling a true hero!” Mary’s venomous gaze was almost tangible, her eyes boring into Harry as curses spilled from her mouth.
“Whether Peter Pettigrew was a hero isn’t something you can just claim,” Harry sneered. “It’s based on what he did—and clearly, there’s more than enough evidence to show he was just a foolish, despicable, cowardly traitor who deserves to die in the cruelest way possible.”
“You’ve basked in unearned honor for far too long,” Harry said with disdain. “Today, everything will be laid bare.”
In this whole affair, Peter Pettigrew’s mother was originally innocent. She couldn’t control her son’s actions or make choices for him. She, too, had been deceived. But clearly, Mary refused to believe what her son had done. Instead, she turned her hatred toward Harry and Sirius, even toward James Potter, the victim.
Or perhaps she simply didn’t want to go from being the mother of a hero to the mother of a traitor. For over a decade, she had lived in the glow of such praise, enjoying the Ministry’s generous subsidies for the families of war heroes.
Harry could see through her easily. The old woman had no ability to hide her thoughts, her emotions teetering on the edge of collapse.
Indeed, tauren held great respect for the elderly and their wisdom, but age alone didn’t make one an elder. Far more important were their character and the purity of their soul.
Only such elders were worthy of respect, deserving of the reverence of young tauren.
Harry had no respect for an old woman so blinded by honor and gain. In his eyes, her soul was like a shriveled, reeking piece of cheese—nauseating.
“I’ll kill you, you little beast! Die!”
Spurred by Harry’s words, Mary’s eyes blazed red. She lunged toward him, her withered arms outstretched as if to claw at his flesh, but the Aurors maintaining order dragged her back and forced her into a chair.
Mary continued to struggle, as if reason had entirely abandoned her. The Aurors had to pin her to another chair, where enchanted chains swiftly extended, binding her to prevent harm to others.
“She’s absolutely mad, isn’t she?” Sirius grinned mischievously. His arms were also bound, limiting his movements, so he resorted to making faces and spitting in Mary’s direction. “Pfft, pfft, pfft! Peter Pettigrew was a shameless traitor! He betrayed James’s trust, and he deserves to be torn apart a thousand times! Pfft, pfft, pfft!”
“Aaaaah!”
Sirius’s words and antics drove Mary even wilder, as if she wanted to devour him whole. Her appearance was no different from the terrifying, crazed witches of Muggle fairy tales, enough to stop a child’s cries at night.
Clang, clang, clang!
Mary’s outburst drew the attention of everyone in the stands. They whispered among themselves until a sudden bell tolled, silencing all murmurs—except for Mary’s frenzied shrieks.
“…Make her shut up,” Fudge ordered, glancing with disgust at the repulsive, mad old woman in the center of the courtroom.
To Fudge, even though Mary had preemptively sued Harry, acting as if she were the wronged party, the case itself was beyond question.
The soul of the deceased had personally testified to the facts, and the one seeking to overturn the case was widely known to have caused their death. If that person wasn’t innocent, why would the victim’s soul lie?
What would be the point?
With a firm hand, an Auror forced a potion down Mary’s throat. Harry caught the scent from across the room—Calming Draught. It worked wonders; Peter’s mother quieted down almost instantly, at least enough for the trial to proceed.
“It seems everyone is ready,” Dumbledore said from the highest seat, clad in a plum-colored robe. His voice was perhaps a touch too cheerful for the courtroom’s somber atmosphere. “To be honest, I can’t quite recall how long I’ve served on the Wizengamot or how many cases I’ve judged. But in all those years, this case stands out as truly unique.”
“Albus?” an elderly witch prompted with a hint of exasperation.
“My apologies, I may have gotten a bit lost in old memories. It happens when you get to my age,” Dumbledore said with a cough. “In any case, I’m certain this case will go down in Wizengamot history. It may mark the beginning of a new form of trial—yes, today, the dead will speak for themselves and name their killer.”
Dumbledore’s words drew a ripple of laughter from the stands, good-natured chuckles. Even many Wizengamot members couldn’t help but smile, finding the notion intriguing.
“Since everyone is present, shall we begin, Minister?” Dumbledore asked with a grin, turning to Fudge.
“Of course,” Fudge replied, smiling. “I’m eager… I mean, eager to see justice served.”
As he spoke, Fudge cast a smug glance around the room. Unlike past trials of such significance to the wizarding world, Barty Crouch was conspicuously absent from the stands. No surprise there—the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation was likely waiting in the corridor outside, awaiting his summons.
After all, he’d made a grave error in Sirius’s case.
The thought only brightened Fudge’s mood further.
Once today’s trial concluded and the truth was revealed, Crouch would likely lose his position as Head. Where to send him next? Perhaps somewhere useless, like the Goblin Liaison Office? Ha.
And those who supported Crouch would need to be dealt with as well…
Seeing the grim faces of Crouch’s usual allies in the stands, Fudge’s mood grew even more buoyant.
The court scribe was ready.
“The trial of October 17,” Dumbledore announced loudly. “The retrial of Sirius Black and the case of Mary Pettigrew versus Harry James Potter for defaming a war hero’s reputation. Given the overlap between the two cases, they will be tried together.”
“Interrogators: Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge; Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Susan Bones. Court Scribe: Mia Smith.”
“Let the trial commence,” Dumbledore said, his expression turning grave. “Sirius Orion Black, according to the case records, twelve years ago, you, as James Potter’s trusted friend, betrayed him. As Secret-Keeper, you sold the secret you were sworn to protect to Voldemort, leading to the deaths of the Potter couple. You then destroyed a Muggle street, killing twelve Muggles and your friend Peter Pettigrew, of whom only a finger remained. Do you admit to these charges?”
“I do not!” Sirius shouted. “Peter was a damned wretch! He betrayed James! He was the real Secret-Keeper! That vile Wormtail, that filthy rat! Shameless scum!”
Sirius’s emotions spiraled out of control. He started trying to explain the events of that year, but the moment Peter’s name came up, his words turned to curses and vitriol, brimming with rage.
His string of insults and curses against Peter further enraged Mary Pettigrew, but the Aurors were quick. A Silencing Charm shut her up, leaving her to glare at Sirius with hatred, as if she could carve out his flesh with her eyes.
Unfazed by Sirius’s outburst, Harry’s gaze sharpened. He caught a word in Sirius’s tirade—Wormtail, rat.
As expected.
So, Sirius was one too?
Sirius’s disruptive behavior couldn’t continue. It wasn’t long before he, too, was given a Calming Draught, which noticeably steadied his emotions.
“…What you’ve said contradicts what the world has believed for twelve years,” Dumbledore continued, maintaining a neutral stance. “What exactly happened back then?”
“…It was all my fault,” Sirius said, his head bowed in anguish. Each mention of those events was like salt in an old wound. “I was the one who convinced Lily and James to switch to Peter… to make that inconspicuous Peter the Secret-Keeper. I thought Voldemort would come after me. Everyone knew I was the Secret-Keeper—it couldn’t possibly be Peter…”
“…I never imagined Peter was working for Voldemort from the start…”
Sirius’s despairing voice filled the courtroom, revealing a long-hidden truth, laced with his regret and frustration.
“So, after learning of James and Lily Potter’s deaths, you realized Peter’s betrayal,” Dumbledore said, his tone unchanged. “Then how do you explain the Muggle deaths? You nearly destroyed an entire street to kill Peter.”
“That wasn’t me,” Sirius said, his voice low under the potion’s effect. “When I found him, he screamed, ‘Lily and James, Sirius, how could you!’ Then he pulled out his wand and blew up the street. I was knocked out by the blast.”
“Wait, you were knocked out?” Fudge interjected, unable to hold back. “But according to the records, when the Aurors arrived, you were holding your wand and laughing maniacally.”
“All that was left was a crater, a finger, and a pile of Muggle bodies,” Amelia added. “Though, his words match the records. The Muggles nearby reported hearing exactly that phrase.”
“I was knocked out, but I woke up quickly,” Sirius defended himself. “I thought he was trying to take me down with him, and he did try, but I didn’t die. My magical strength was far greater than Peter’s. I protected myself.”
“Then why, twelve years ago, didn’t you explain any of this or defend yourself?” Amelia’s piercing gaze bore into Sirius. “If you were innocent and Peter was the traitor, why didn’t you say so? Instead, you let Peter be posthumously honored as a martyr, a hero, while you became the most infamous prisoner. I don’t find Azkaban’s environment particularly appealing.”
“Because—because—” Sirius choked, tears streaming down his face. “Because I failed them. I failed James, I failed Lily, I failed Harry… It’s all my fault, all of it…”
“…If I hadn’t suggested switching the Secret-Keeper… If I’d stayed the Secret-Keeper, I swear on my soul, even if Voldemort tortured me to death, I’d never have betrayed them… Why wasn’t it me…”
“…It’s all my fault… I deserved to be punished…”
The torment that had haunted Sirius for twelve years poured out with his tears and words. In the stands, several empathetic jurors quietly wiped their eyes, feeling the raw sincerity in Sirius’s voice as if they shared his pain.
A guilt-ridden soul seeking atonement for his actions.
“That does make sense,” Amelia said to Fudge. “When I learned this case was being reopened, I reviewed the old records. I’ve always wondered why Sirius surrendered to the Aurors without a fight.”
“If he was loyal to the Dark Lord, wouldn’t he have resisted and fled?” she continued. “From the timeline, he had a chance to Disapparate before the Aurors arrived, but he didn’t.”
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
