When Adrian and Black arrived at the gargoyle-guarded entrance and ascended the spiraling stone staircase to the headmaster's office, the scene that showed them inside made Adrian's jaw tighten with concern.
The circular chamber buzzed with tense energy and hushed, urgent conversations. Quite a few people had already gathered in Dumbledore's office.
Dumbledore, Remus, Peter, Fudge, and a tall woman wearing a monocle whom Adrian had never t and didn't recognize but guessed who she was.
Peter was bound with magically reinforced rope so thick it could have moored a ship, the enchanted bonds glowing faintly with restrictive charms. He slumped in a wooden chair like a broken puppet, his face was now haggard and pale as parchnt, trembling violently.
Remus stood beside the bound traitor, his eyes burning with fury that transford his entire deanor.
Remus stood beside Peter, looking grim and saying nothing. The others maintained serious expressions, standing aside discussing sothing.
But the mont the door swung open, every pair of eyes in the room turned toward the entrance.
"Uh... good afternoon?" Adrian replied with visible discomfort, feeling uncomfortably like a pet on display in so magical zoo. The unexpected attention made his skin prickle with unease.
Of course, the real pet was at his feet—the unusually large pink dog whose presence drew puzzled glances and raised eyebrows from the gathering.
Upon catching sight of Peter, Black's entire body went rigid. His hairs rose like a forest of pink needles, and a low, nacing growl rumbled deep in his chest. But with trendous effort, he quickly forced himself to calm down as he resisted the overwhelming urge to transform and exact imdiate vengeance.
Fudge hurried forward with the desperate eagerness of a man drowning in political crisis, his round face flushed and glistened with nervous sweat: "Professor Westeros, Albus has already briefed us thoroughly about Black's... unique situation. Where exactly is that dangerous criminal... ahem..."
He cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly aware of his poor choice of words. "Where is Mr. Black currently?"
As soon as those words left his lips, the air in the office seed to crystallize with tension, and Peter desperately squeezed his eyes shut as if he could make reality disappear through sheer force of will.
He knew his forr friend far too closely to be deceived. Although the magical disguise had altered the coloring intensely, he couldn't possibly be mistaken, the large dog standing beside Adrian was undoubtedly his long-lost forr friend, Sirius Black.
What Black's presence in this room ant for his own rapidly diminishing future, Peter understood that made his stomach churn with terror.
"Professor Westeros, allow to introduce myself. I am Alia Bones, Director of the Departnt for Magical Law Enforcent."
The imposing woman stepped forward with the confident air of soone accustod to commanding rooms full of powerful wizards.
"Although we have already obtained substantial evidence through proper interrogation techniques, formal questioning and official identity verification of Sirius Black remain necessary legal procedures that cannot be circumvented. Professor Dumbledore has inford us that you have been providing sanctuary and observation for the accused."
Adrian's sharp eyes imdiately noticed the small crystal vial she held in her grip, containing approximately half a asure of transparent liquid that looked like ordinary water but shimred with an almost imperceptible magical aura.
That was undoubtedly Veritaserum—the most potent truth serum known to wizardkind and judging by the reduced quantity, a significant portion had already been administered to extract confessions.
At this crucial mont, the pink-furred large dog beside Adrian began to shift and contort in the unmistakable pattern of magical transformation—Black had finally reached the limits of his self-control and could no longer maintain the charade.
Under the startled gazes of every person present, the large dog's form rippled and reford with fluid grace, revealing a thin but handso man. Though his hair retained that ridiculous pink tint that would have been comical under different circumstances, his grey eyes burned with the barely restrained fury.
Adrian raised a single eyebrow in a gesture of mild exasperation.
Transforming in front of such a gathering of Ministry officials wasn't exactly a strategically sound choice, Black.
Had the man completely forgotten that he was currently an unregistered illegal Animagus—a serious magical cri in its own right?
Now that was absolutely perfect—one charge of wrongful imprisonnt might be cleared, but another violation had just been publicly demonstrated in front of multiple witnesses from the Departnt of Magical Law Enforcent.
However, it was obvious that no one in the room particularly cared about such relatively minor legal technicalities when faced with the magnitude of the larger injustice that had been perpetrated.
"Sirius..." Remus's voice seed to drift across vast distances, carrying thirteen years of grief, guilt, and desperate hope.
He had never imagined in his darkest monts that their long-awaited reunion would unfold in such a formal atmosphere, but this clearly wasn't the appropriate ti for old friends to indulge in emotional reunions or attempt to bridge the chasm of lost years.
Seeing Black appear before their eyes, Fudge's already pale complexion instantly drained to the color of old parchnt, and even Bones's professional composure showed visible cracks of surprise and concern.
"Mr. Black," Bones said with the icy precision of soone delivering a formal legal statent, "we are required by law to escort you to the Ministry of Magic imdiately. You will be held in secure but comfortable detention facilities until all investigative procedures have been completed to the satisfaction of the Wizengamot."
"What about this traitor?" Black fixed his burning gaze upon Peter, years of suppressed hatred and fury finally finding an outlet. "Will you grant him the swift execution his cris so richly deserve?"
Peter began shaking so violently in his restraints that the magical ropes creaked, large droplets of cold sweat rolling down his pale forehead and dripping onto his robes.
"No... please, Sirius... I swear I really didn't have any choice in the matter... Jas and Lily..."
"Shut your lying mouth!" Remus exploded with a fury that transford his entire being, suddenly lashing out with his foot to kick violently at Peter's chair. The wooden legs scraped harshly against the floor with a soundlike fingernails on slate.
Dumbledore gently raised his hand to stop Remus's further actions. "Remus, violence cannot solve the deeper problems we face."
Adrian silently watched this scene.
He had never witnessed Remus in such a state of rage—this normally mild-mannered man had completely abandoned his typical gentle deanor, replaced by sothing that spoke to the wolf that lived within his human heart.
Obviously, the Veritaserum had compelled Peter to confess everything in detail, leaving no room for doubt or denial.
At the very least, everyone present in this room now understood with absolute certainty that Peter Pettigrew was the one who had truly betrayed the Potter family all those years ago, delivering them into Voldemort's murderous hands while allowing his innocent friend to suffer in Azkaban for his own cowardly cris.
"He will be transported to Azkaban prison to face the Dentors' judgnt," Fudge announced while nervously wiping fresh sweat from his increasingly damp forehead. "But before that final sentence can be carried out, he must first face formal trial proceedings before the full Wizengamot, as required by our legal traditions."
Sirius released a sharp, bitter laugh that contained not a trace of humor. "A trial? Azkaban? Direct execution would be far more appropriate for what he has done. Sending him to Azkaban serves no purpose."
Peter emitted a high-pitched, mouse-like whimper that was barely human, curling into himself as much as his magical restraints would allow and shivering like a creature facing its natural predator: "No... please, I'm begging you....."
Of course, no one present paid the slightest attention to his pathetic death rattles and desperate pleas for rcy he had never shown others.
Alia Bones's monocle caught the light and reflected it back with cold, rciless determination. "Mr. Black, I can certainly understand and even sympathize with your justified anger, but we must still follow proper legal procedures, regardless of our personal feelings about the outco."
She turned toward Fudge with a decisive movent, her tone becoming firm. "Minister, given that the true criminal has now confessed under Veritaserum to his cris, I strongly suggest imdiately initiating ergency proceedings for a Wizengamot trial."
"That will require considerable ti and preparation..." Fudge replied weakly, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief that was becoming increasingly wet. "First we need to organize the proper docuntation, contact all the necessary officials, prepare the formal charges..."
Black suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. "Why bother with all these elaborate legal niceties, Minister? Just execute him directly and be done with it—exactly the sa way you threw into Azkaban thirteen years ago without so much as a pretense of a trial or investigation."
At this mont, Dumbledore spoke.
"Arrange for both the interrogation and formal judgnt to proceed as quickly as possible, Cornelius, Alia, The day after tomorrow, before the Wizengamot."
"I believe that should be no problems," Fudge replied with visible relief, recognizing a lifeline when it was offered.
When Dumbledore spoke with such conviction, bureaucratic obstacles had a way of mysteriously dissolving.
When Fudge and Bones finally prepared to leave the headmaster's office, they escorted both Black and Peter with them, surrounded by the Aurors who had been stationed throughout Hogwarts. The prisoner would be transported under heavy magical guard back to the Ministry to await their respective fates.
As they were leaving, Alia Bones stood at the door of the headmaster's office and gave the remaining people one final statent. "The true criminal will receive exactly the punishnt his cris deserve, I give you my personal assurance. Azkaban will not be his final destination."
"Madam Bones has earned a well-deserved reputation as one of the most trustworthy and competent officials in the entire Ministry,"
Dumbledore said thoughtfully once the delegation had departed. "In fact, she is the person most directly affected by this entire tragic situation. The previous Director of Magical Law Enforcent committed an error in judgnt when he sent Sirius to Azkaban without conducting even the most basic investigation—that decision appears inexcusably hasty and negligent in hindsight, and soone with authority must take responsibility for making proper ands."
Adrian nodded his agreent, though his expression remained thoughtful.
He had no previous knowledge of Alia Bones's character or professional reputation, but their brief encounter had left him with a distinctly favorable first impression of her integrity and competence.
This formidable woman's barely concealed contempt when dealing with Fudge's obvious incompetence had been particularly satisfying to witness.
"I should have discovered the truth much earlier," Remus said as he sank heavily onto Dumbledore's sofa, his fingers running anxiously through his graying hair in a gesture of self-bla.
"That Peter would do such things—I genuinely believed we were true friends, brothers in everything but blood. We used to protect him from bullies, take care of him, never once imagining he would..."
"An unqualified Gryffindor if ever there was one—he completely lacks true courage," Adrian comnted. "Facts prove that the Sorting Hat's decisions, while generally accurate, don't determine everything about a person's ultimate character."
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