Harry Potter: The Angel of Death C36 (Patreon)

Chapter 36: Sirius Black Part I

Crowley allowed the chaos to continue for several seconds before raising a hand for silence.

"A wizard," he said coolly, his voice carrying throughout the chamber, "a member of one of the oldest and most noble houses in Britain, heir to House Black itself, was imprisoned in Azkaban without so much as a trial."

The statement hung in the air.

"Think about that for a moment."

Nobody spoke as the words sank in. 

"A man was condemned to spend the rest of his life among Dementors. No investigation or hearing. No opportunity to defend himself. Nothing."

Several members shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Everyone knew the Ministry was flawed, corruption and incompetence hardly being state secrets, but having one of its most blatant failures dragged into the open before the Wizengamot, numerous high-ranking Ministry officials, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and even the Minister for Magic himself, was incredibly awkward.

The only ones who appeared thrilled by the turn of events were the members of the press. They were practically salivating as headline after headline fell into their laps without the slightest effort on their part. If the hearing had been controversial, the trial itself had become an outright circus, and every reporter in the audience knew they were witnessing the story of the decade, maybe even the century. 

"It does not matter whether Sirius Black was a pauper from Knockturn Alley or the heir to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It does not matter whether he was innocent or guilty. What matters is that the Ministry of Magic decided it did not need to prove anything before stripping a citizen of every right he possessed."

The discomfort grew. If the heir to one of the most powerful Houses in the nation could be dragged away and locked in Azkaban without so much as a trial, then the question before this chamber is not what happened to Sirius Black. The question is this: if it happened to him, what is stopping it from happening to anyone else? 

And perhaps the most disturbing question of all: had this happened before? If Sirius Black could be sent to Azkaban without a trial, how many witches and wizards are currently sitting in those cells without deserving to be there? 

"Everyone knew he was guilty," someone called from the benches.

Several members nodded. Sirius Black was all over the papers in 81, so practically the entire nation knew every detail of what happened. 

"Indeed?" Crowley asked.

The man's confidence faltered under Crowley’s gaze.

"He betrayed the Potters, everyone knew." The same man, a Ministry official, mumbled. 

"Ah." Crowley smiled. "Of course."

His smile widened, and the Ministry official paled a bit. By now, the man seemed to have learned that Crowley's smiles were rarely a good sign. 

"Everyone knew." His tone practically dripped with sarcasm. "How fortunate. Here I was thinking guilt was supposed to be demonstrated with evidence."

A few people winced.

"He revealed the Potters' location to the Dark Lord," a member of the Wizengamot, Lord Fawley, argued.

Crowley laughed, not a polite chuckle but a genuine laugh that echoed through the chamber and made several people look annoyed or uncomfortable, or both.

"Did he?"

The room quieted.

"How fascinating."

He reached into his briefcase and withdrew a folded parchment.

"Professor Flitwick."

The Head of Ravenclaw blinked.

"Yes?"

Crowley held up the parchment.

"Would you kindly examine this and tell the court whether you recognize the handwriting?"

The parchment floated across the chamber. Flitwick adjusted his spectacles and began reading, and a few seconds later, his expression changed. Harry watched the tiny professor's eyes widen, narrow, then widen further.

"Professor?" Amelia prompted.

Flitwick looked up, trembling.

"I recognize it." His voice sounded strained. "It belongs to Lily Potter."

That drew the attention of everyone right away

"This letter was among the possessions left to Harry Potter by his parents." Crowley took the parchment back. "It was written shortly before their deaths."

Harry resisted the urge to shift in his seat. Technically, the letter was genuine, but just not in the way Crowley said.

Crowley unfolded the parchment.

"Lily begins by apologizing to Harry for not being there to watch him grow up. She expresses her hope that he will live a happy life and specifically states that she hopes her son will be in the care of Sirius Black, his godfather and the person she describes as one of her and James Potter's closest friends."

Silence descended upon the chamber as everyone listened to each of Crowley’s words.

"She jokes that she hopes Sirius does not spoil Harry too much."

A few confused looks appeared. The thought of Sirius Black, mass murderer and follower of the Dark Lord, spoiling the Dark Lord’s number one enemy is utterly ridiculous.  

"She describes him as reckless, immature, and possessing what she calls an overgrown child's personality, though she also notes that he is capable of being remarkably responsible and strategic when circumstances require it." Crowley glanced around the room before he delivered the next line. "Most interestingly, Lily Potter writes about the Fidelius Charm."

The atmosphere shifted as practically everyone leaned forward in anticipation. Two wizards and five witches leaned a little too far and promptly toppled out of their seats, their sudden crash breaking the silence and drawing dozens of amused glances. Red-faced, they hurriedly climbed back into their chairs and did their best to pretend nothing had happened. 

Crowley looked at them, amused, before returning to the letter. 

"According to her letter, Sirius Black personally suggested that James and Lily change Secret Keeper."

Nobody moved. Several people blinked in confusion, uncertain whether they had heard correctly. Dumbledore's face went white. 

"Rather than using Sirius himself, they would use Peter Pettigrew while Sirius acted as a decoy. The intention was to provide additional protection by misleading anyone who might target Sirius."

The chamber had become so quiet that Harry could hear people breathing. Dumbledore staggered as though struck. In the span of a few heartbeats, he seemed to age ten years, his shoulders slumping beneath an invisible weight, and only Scrimgeour's quick reflexes prevented him from hitting the floor. The auror steadied him and helped him back into his chair. 

Crowley looked at the old wizard before lowering his gaze to the parchment.

"Lily then writes that if she and James are dead, then Peter likely betrayed them."

Several gasps echoed through the room.

"Furthermore," Crowley continued, "she specifically asks Harry not to blame Sirius. She writes that he would probably feel responsible because the change had been his idea, and she does not want him punishing himself for the rest of his life."

Harry looked toward the audience section and immediately found Professor McGonagall, and the sight nearly made his heart ache. The Transfiguration professor had gone frighteningly pale and seemed to have collapsed into her seat, as though the strength had simply drained from her body. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and her expression was one of profound grief and guilt.

Seated beside her, Professor Flitwick looked equally shocked by the revelation, his face almost as pale as hers. However, while visibly disturbed, he appeared far less devastated, and with obvious concern, he was fanning his colleague with a piece of parchment, keeping a close eye on her as though afraid she might faint.

"Her exact sentiment," Crowley said in a lower voice, almost whispering, "is that they all did everything they could, and sometimes even that is not enough."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Harry looked around the chamber and found dozens of stunned faces. After nearly half a minute, Crowley folded the letter and put it on the desk, then he looked toward Amelia Bones.

"Madam Bones."

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement seemed at a loss for words.

"Given that we have just established that Sirius Black never received a trial, and given that we now possess evidence that directly contradicts the accepted narrative surrounding the fall of the Potters, I formally request that these proceedings be suspended until Sirius Black can be brought before this body, questioned under oath, and finally granted the trial he was denied twelve years ago."

The chamber erupted once more, and this time Amelia Bones did not immediately call for order. Instead, she remained seated, her eyes fixed on the folded parchment resting on Crowley's desk.

Finally, she rose.

"The request is granted." She cleared her throat to steady her voice. "This hearing is hereby suspended pending the immediate review of the Sirius Black case."

And just like that, the first day of Harry Potter's trial came to an end.

***

Later that evening, Harry sat atop a weathered stone overlooking the lake.

The ruins of Ashford Castle stretched behind him, broken towers and collapsed walls silhouetted against the fading light of sunset, while across the dark waters, the isle stood silent beneath the evening sky, its lonely tower rising from the mist like a forgotten sentinel watching over the estate.

Over the last month, he and Dobby had spent countless hours clearing the grounds. Every corpse, skeleton, and scattered human remains they had found across the estate had been gathered and buried properly within a newly constructed crypt near the edge of the forest. Afterward, Lily had helped place enough wards around the structure to ensure that no dark magic or power would ever again disturb the dead resting within.

Most of their remaining time had been spent repairing the cottage, so the rest of the estate remained as it was, just less haunted. Hermione had asked him several times whether he had plans for Ashford Estate, and Harry's answer had always been the same: No, at least not for now.

His immediate priorities were very simple: he wanted legal freedom and a home. The trial was progressing better than he had expected, and the cottage suited him perfectly. Maybe one day he would restore the castle. Maybe one day he would renovate the tower or rebuild the estate into something worthy of its former glory, but that day was not today.

Frankly, he already had enough on his plate as it is.

Harry activated Angel Mode, and a moment later, two familiar figures appeared beside him. This time, he did not summon them fully corporeal, since that requires much more mana, and this conversation will be a long one. 

James and Lily settled onto the grass nearby.

"So?" James immediately asked.

Harry snorted.

"Hello, Harry. How have you been?" Harry said dryly

 James rolled his eyes. "Hello, Harry. How have you been?" He waited a moment. "There. Happy?"

Harry and Lily rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Good." James pointed at him. "Now start talking.”

Harry spent the next several minutes summarizing the trial, and by the time he finished, both his parents looked stunned and relieved.

"Sirius is finally getting out," James whispered.

Harry nodded, that was most likely the case. Even if, for some insane reason, the Ministry refuses to fully exonerate him, there was simply no way Sirius would remain in Azkaban after what had happened today.

This entire thing had been planned for weeks, and the trial had been the perfect stage, with too much attention, witnesses, and political pressure—and far too many eyes watching—for the Ministry to quietly bury the matter.

"Sirius deserves freedom," Lily said softly.

"He does." James hesitated before looking at Harry. "You know... if he's cleared..."

Harry already knew where this was going.

"Sirius is a good man." Said Lily. 

Harry stared at the lake. He did not harbor any ill feelings towards Sirius Black, everything he had learned about the man painted a good picture. Sirius was loyal, brave, reckless, stubborn, and occasionally insane, but fundamentally a good man.

The memories Harry had seen only reinforced that impression. Sirius Black was somebody he probably would like, but liking someone and trusting them with your future were not the same thing.

"Twelve years ago," Harry said, "Sirius chose revenge."

James winced, and Harry continued.

"He left me with Hagrid, which was responsible enough, but he chose vengeance."

Neither parent argued.

"And after that?" Harry laughed bitterly. "Twelve years in Azkaban."

Lily lowered her gaze.

"The funny thing is that we know he could escape."

James looked uncomfortable. 

"In the lunatic's memories, Sirius escaped using his Animagus form." Harry picked up a small stone and tossed it into the water. "So what finally got him out?"

Neither parent answered.

"Peter Pettigrew being alive." Harry looked at his parents, who were averting his eyes. "He escaped for revenge."

The words hung in the air for a moment before Harry continued:

"For twelve years he stayed in Azkaban. Maybe he thought about me. Maybe he didn't. But if he did, he certainly didn't care enough to break out and check whether his godson was alive, healthy, or sleeping under a bridge somewhere."

James closed his eyes, sinking his shoulders.

Harry sighed.

"I want him free."

That part was true; he truly has no ill feelings towards Sirius. Sure, he was bitter that Sirius did not have him as a priority, but whatever ill feeling might have been born from that died at the thought of all that Sirius suffered in Azkaban. 

"He deserves his freedom, but I'm not risking mine."

Lily nodded.

"I think that's reasonable."

James looked betrayed, but Lily ignored him.

"Harry isn't saying Sirius is a bad man." She looked at him. "He's saying that Sirius has spent the last twelve years making decisions based on James and Peter."

Harry nodded.

"Exactly."

Lily smiled sadly.

"And now you're making decisions based on yourself."

James did not argue against that, and after a few moments of silence, the conversation drifted elsewhere.

At one point, Harry found himself staring toward the distant tower as a strange thought crossed his mind.

"What do you think he'll be like?"

His parents looked at him.

"Sirius." Harry clarified while looking at the dark water. 

For years, Sirius had been filled with despair, guilt, and regret. According to the memories Harry had inherited from the lunatic, the discovery that Peter Pettigrew was still alive had been the spark that finally drove Sirius to escape. Revenge had given him purpose, it had given him something to move toward.

But Peter Pettigrew was dead. For over a decade, the wizarding world had believed him dead when he was not. Then, this summer, the lie had finally become the truth. Dobby had purchased a rat nearly identical to Scabbers and discreetly switched the two. As for what happened afterward... only James and Lily knew. Harry had summoned them corporeally and left them alone with Peter Pettigrew. When the summoning ended, Peter had been dead. Neither of his parents had ever explained exactly what happened, and Harry had never asked. Some things were better left unknown.

So, he wondered, without revenge, without Peter, who exactly was Sirius Black? And perhaps more importantly: Who would he become once free?

***

Several hours later, a Ministry boat cut through the dark waters of the North Sea beneath an overcast sky.

Nobody spoke much during the journey. The revelation regarding Sirius Black had spread through the Ministry like wildfire and the atmosphere among the small group was tense as they approached the black fortress rising from the sea. Azkaban had never been a pleasant place, but knowing there was a possibility that one of its prisoners had spent twelve years there without trial made the looming prison seem even more sinister.

Amelia Bones stood at the front of the vessel with her arms crossed while a dozen aurors accompanied her, among them Rufus Scrimgeour and several senior aurors. Crowley remained seated near the stern, looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had just thrown wizarding Britain into chaos and was currently heading towards the nation’s most feared prison.

The fortress grew larger as dark stone emerged from the mist. Even before the boat reached the docks, several members of the group began to shiver as they felt the presence of the Dementors. Hundreds of them drifted around the prison like vultures circling a corpse, making the air feel colder and the world quieter. In their presence, hope, light, love, and everything good in the world seemed to grow distant, becoming little more than fading memories, while a hollow darkness engulfed one's mind, sinking despair and desolation into the heart. The longer one remained near the Dementors, the easier it became to believe that happiness had never existed at all and never would again.  By the time they entered the prison, even the most experienced Aurors looked like they wanted to go home. 

The prison governor led them downward through a maze of corridors until they finally stopped before a heavy iron door.

"This is him."

The governor unlocked the cell, and the door creaked open.  Silence greeted them, and for a moment Amelia thought the cell was empty, then she noticed the figure sitting in a corner hugging his legs.

He was thin, gaunt, and filthy, long black hair hung past his shoulders, while a tangled beard obscured much of his face. Every visible bone seemed to press against skin stretched far too tightly across his frame. The infamous Sirius Black looked less like a dangerous criminal and more like a corpse that had forgotten to die.

Lethargically, grey eyes lifted toward the visitors and Sirius began to laugh. The sound sent chills down several spines.

"Well now," he rasped. "Either I've finally gone mad or Amelia Bones is visiting my cell."

Amelia stared at him. This is what twelve years in Azkaban did to a man.

Merlin.

"Sirius Black," she began almost hesitantly. "We have questions."

Sirius barked another laugh.

"That's new."

"We are reviewing your case."

The laughter stopped, and something resembling focus appeared in his eyes.

"My case?"

"Regarding the deaths of James and Lily Potter."

The prisoner's entire body froze, and for several seconds nobody moved before Sirius finally looked away.

"They're dead." The words sounded broken, not angry or bitter, just exhausted. "They've been dead for twelve years."

Amelia exchanged a glance with Rufus.

"Why are you here?"

"We have reason to believe important information may have been overlooked."

Sirius laughed again, it was a hollow sound that made Amelia look away and close her eyes for a moment. 

"Overlooked?" He turned toward them. "I screamed I was innocent."

Nobody answered as his voice grew harder.

"I screamed it for months." His smile was ugly and menacing, making several avert their gazes in either fear or guilt. "Funny how nobody listened."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable but Amelia pushed forward anyway.

"Did you betray James and Lily Potter?"

Sirius stared at her for half a minute before laughing again, longer this time and louder, until the laugh eventually collapsed into something close to sobbing.

"No." The word left Sirius's mouth with a certainty that cut through the lingering madness in his eyes. "Never!"

"Then who did?"

"Peter."

Several Aurors stiffened.

"Peter Pettigrew." Sirius closed his eyes. "Peter was Secret Keeper."

Amelia felt her pulse quicken. His statement matched Lily Potter's letter.

"What happened?"

Sirius opened his eyes again, the madness still there, but so was grief.

"So many years and now you ask?"

Nobody had an answer for that. Finally, Crowley stepped forward; the solicitor had remained silent the entire time. Sirius looked at him, confusion appearing on his face.

"I know you."

Crowley smiled faintly.

"Not personally."

"No." Sirius frowned. "I've seen you before."

Crowley ignored that. Instead, he rolled up the sleeve of Sirius' shirt. Several Aurors looked at him, confused as Crowley exposed his forearm: blank skin. There was nothing but blank skin on Sirius Black's forearm.

Scrimgeour frowned.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Crowley never took his eyes off Sirius.

"Twelve years ago, what was the first assumption everyone made after James and Lily Potter died?"

Nobody answered, so he continued:

"Everyone assumed that Sirius Black was a Death Eater." Crowley lowered Sirius' arm. "So where is the Dark Mark?"

Realization began spreading across their faces, and Amelia's eyes widened while Sirius stared at him.

"The Ministry never bothered checking," Crowley said dryly. "Did they?"

Nobody spoke; the answer was clear. No. They hadn't. Not once. Not a single wizard or witch had ever verified whether Sirius Black bore the mark that identified Voldemort's followers.

Sirius Black began to laugh. Not the hollow laughter from before, nor madness or hysteria—just disbelief. Twelve years. Twelve years in Azkaban, and nobody had ever bothered to look until now. The laughter slowly died, and Sirius looked directly at Amelia Bones. When he spoke again, his voice was steady.

"If you're finally willing to listen," he said, "I'll tell you everything."

***

Author’s Note: Sirius Black, ladies and gentlemen. 

PS: Harry doesn't hate Sirius, not at all. He is just a bit bitter cuz his dogfather prioritized revenge over him.