Between Wands & Sigils - Chapter 108 : The Inconsistencies encapsulated in the Letter.... (Patreon)

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Hogwarts

–Albus Dumbledore–

He sat at his desk, looking at the innocent looking letter on his desk, after he had cleared it of any magical tampering. The letter was unmistakable from the Giant Killer. The encryption pattern matched, as did the magical signature locked into the letter, accessible only after the encryption was cracked.

The letter had arrived at Hogwarts earlier today, and the only reason he hadn’t cracked it open was because of all the chaos the Giant Killer had raised with every single action he took. With all the attention already on Hogwarts and its supposed failure in protecting students, he was wary of yet another plot that could bring him ever closer to having to fight for his position as Headmaster.

And yet, he couldn't just ignore it. Not after he saw what the Giant Killer was capable of. He might not be the same as Tom was when he reached the height of his power, but if he continued going down the same path of lawlessness and reckless vigilante justice, then the Ministry would have no choice but to treat him like they did Tom.

With a sigh that managed to encapsulate the exhaustion he felt since the day he had to put down Tom’s wraith and Quirell at the same time, he opened the letter. It read : 

Dear Headmaster Albus “Too many names” Dumbledore,

First of all, you’re welcome for Azkaban. I am aware of your many attempts to get the place shut down, culminating in a temporary halt on all prisoner transfers to the island. The idea was good, the execution was not. Which is why I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I assume you have no complaints about the wastes of space that were the denizens of the Prison. I assure you, I have done extensive planning before I took the step. I do not take lives lightly, as you very well know.

Now, during my research, I came upon a peculiar lack of documentation when it came to a particular prisoner, someone whom you knew very well.

Sirius Black.

If you must know, while going through the Ministry Archives, I found a startling lack of information when it came to his sentencing to Azkaban. As in, there wasn’t one.

Let me repeat, Sirius Black was never given a trial. There are no records of any trial, any arguments, any attempt at getting to the bottom of things.

There was no forensic analysis done on Sirius’ wands, the explosion that killed the non-maicals & Peter Pettigrew, or his finger. There was no body recovered. Any curse strong enough to erase most of Peter Pettigrew should be more than capable of erasing his finger as well.

Aside from that, in such a high profile case, there are no records of the Truth Serum being used, no Pensieve review, or even any attempt to do so. The only physical evidence for the sentencing seems to be Peter Pettigrew’s finger. No record of any attempt made to ascertain the origin of the finger, beyond what is written under the evidence section.

Individually? They could be explained away with the excuse of tempers being high, war time chaos resulting in paperwork breakdown, but together? They create a troubling conclusion.

As for the matter of the Fidelius Charm, what conclusive proof do you have that Sirius was the secret keeper? It was public knowledge at the time, too public for the idea to be sound. No, I believe that the secret keeper was someone else, and Sirius was just the decoy.

Now, I understand that you might not want to revisit old wounds and see the face of the person whom you trusted at one point, but I must warn you, Headmaster. I don’t take injustice lightly.

Which is why, if drastic actions are not taken within a week of you receiving this letter, I will publicly reveal the continued existence of one Peter Pettigrew.

Yes, he lives on. I have him in my custody, as I do Sirius.

I have both of them ready for a trial at your earliest convenience. I do not claim that Sirius is innocent, but the mere doubt had me keeping him alive until it was ascertained.

Even if he is guilty, I believe he has the right to a fair trial. Either way, I assure you that I will not take this standing down.

If the Ministry does not listen to my request, I will begin taking drastic steps. 

I can assure you, you do not want that.

He remained in the same position, his gaze vacant as he looked at something beyond the letter. The only sound that echoed in the room was his increasingly heavy breathing. The letter slipped from his trembling hands as he leaned back in his chair, his magic roiling under his skin and then escaping his grasp as it lashed out at the table and the furniture around him.

He was deaf to the increasingly panicked shouting from the portraits of the past headmasters as his mind continued to take him back to the memories he had of Sirius, of James, of Remus. Of their activities in Hogwarts, of their smiles, of their tears.

Of their trust in him.

“What have I done?” He whispered to himself as he realised that he had let Death Eaters like Malfoy and Lestrange breathe freely and let Sirius rot in what was the closest approximation of a government sanctioned hell. 

The memories were too painful, the prospect of meeting a traitor too daunting for him to meet Sirius, for him to go through the documents, for him to be present at the trial. For him to question why the trial was fast tracked at a time when the country was supposed to help the injured, heal, take some time to relax before moving to punishing the criminals.

He had never questioned why Sirius’ trail was fast tracked; the other Death Eater trials were slow walked to the point that the public memory and trauma of Tom’s reign dulled, and the public just saw the government unjustly targeting the pureblood members of society, forcing the Ministry to drop some of the cases.

He didn’t even feel the door to his office broken as people came into his office, arcs of his magic lashing out at everything around him.

“Albus! ALBUS!” He was shaken out of his thoughts by Minerva as he looked at Minerva, Filius, and Pomona looking at him in concern, from behind their shields.

That snapped him out of it as he got his magic under control, leaning back into the chair, closing his eyes, and taking in deep breaths.

After a few moments, all of them stepped inside, as Minerva asked him, “What happened, Albius?”

He wordlessly passed the letter to her. 

___xx__

“Professor!” The receptionist for the Archives exclaimed, standing up as she looked up.

“Good afternoon, Mina. I was wondering if I could get access to the archives from 1990-1995?”

“O-Ofcourse, Professor. Just sign here and–”

“Mina,” He began, his smile out in full force, and yet, it had an edge to it, “I will be out of your hair before you know it. I believe short visits don’t need documentation?”

She took a long look at him, understanding what he was implying before slowly nodding as she closed the book, “Yes, ofcourse. How silly of me! Um, you can go in now.”

“Thank you so much. You can take a break, you know. I can see exhaustion on your face.”

“R-Right. Ofcoruse,” She mumbled to herself as she went inside, his destination the trial records for just after Tom was vanquished by Lily Potter.

In there, he found the files, labelled Sirius Black, and yet, there was nothing inside them. The files were empty. Not a single piece of paper in the file, and they sentenced Sirius to Azkaban!

He exhaled, furious and tired at the same time, as he began going through the entire drawer to see if there was a duplicate or a misplaced record somewhere. 

But no. Even after hours spent in the Archive, he found no evidence, no file, no transcript, no forensic analysis, no request for the Truth serum or Pensive. Nothing.

“Um, sir, Headmaster?” he turned around, having sensed her coming. Mina was a good student, a Ravenclaw who graduated from Hogwarts just before Tom began his reign of terror. Being a pureblood and only responsible for the Archive meant she managed to get past the entire war without gaining attention.

“Yes, dear?” He answered, waving his wand, getting the documents back in their place, as the drawers closed shut with a snap.

“Um, uh–My break is over.” The meaning was clear. This was the extent of what she could do without risking her job.

He nodded, understanding her message, “Right, ofcourse.”

Getting out of the Archives, he went back to his office. He needed to act, and fast. The Giant Killer was many things, but patient and silent, he was not. Whatever he would do if he did not get his way would be loud, clear, and visible for everyone in Magical Britain and the world at large to see.

He had no intention to suffer through yet another scandal that would rock the foundations of their Justice system, which came from an outside source. If he did this internally, there was a chance they would not lose the public’s trust.