“Why would you lie about your birthday?!”
November 20
When Sam saw Harry fidgeting beside him again, he sighed.
“Dude, you look fine,” Sam said, probably for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes.
“Right, sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I’m just…”
Harry trailed off and Sam sighed again, silently that time.
Harry was a bundle of nerves and anxiety and Sam wasn’t doing a great job at keeping him calm. Which made him a pretty lousy brother, honestly.
In Sam’s own defense to himself, he was tired.
Sam and Harry made the drive out to New York the night before and snagged a motel near MACUSA. They had to go shopping to get Harry something appropriate to wear for court, then they racked up a whole three hours of sleep before leaving for MACUSA.
Harry probably didn’t sleep much, he looked exhausted. Actually, he looked sharp in the suit that Sam bought him from some formal wear shop meant for prom kids, but tired too.
And anxious.
“Okay, so I don’t know for sure how different it might be, but being a witness for the defense is pretty straightforward,” Sam said after he parked Dean’s car in the parking lot. It was a small lot, meant for any MACUSA employee who drove instead of apparated.
It went without saying that Sam was the only car in the lot. Though, it was one in the morning, which might play a factor.
They had a few minutes and Sam tried to think of anything he could to ease Harry’s worries. Sam, personally, didn’t care if Sirius Black was found innocent or not - outside of the potential further miscarriage of a justice system meant to rehabilitate people instead of condemning them. Harry cared though and Sam cared that Harry cared.
“In a standard case, in America, they would call you to the stand, ask some standard questions,” Sam explained. “Things like your name, address, birthdate.” Sam had a sudden horrible thought and he grimaced. “Do not give them our address, dude. Just tell them you can’t remember.”
“Right, right…” Harry nodded and then his head jerked and he was staring at Sam with huge eyes. “Quick question, what’s my name?”
If Harry was Sirius’s star witness then the dude was headed straight back to prison.
Sam coached Harry clear from the parking lot in through the entrance for MACUSA and to the Travel Department. They could have made a shorter trip of it by driving to Nashville and buying a portkey, but Sam did some digging and found out that Harry should travel for free through MACUSA since he was being summoned for a criminal trial in London.
Intentional portkeys were expensive, Sam had no idea how much the one Harry had for his monthly classes must have cost.
“Harry James Potter-Winchester… I don’t remember my address… I’m here for Sirius Black… my birthday is- is…”
Sam heard Harry whispering his own reminders to himself while he spoke with the woman working in the travel office. It didn’t strike Sam as strange until Harry scrunched his nose and glanced at Sam.
“You’re certain it’s August? I think you’re wrong?”
“August second, dude,” Sam assured him. Sam assumed that was just Harry’s nerves making him a little hysterical. Sam had done more research on anomic aphasia than he did anything else.
Specific titles, names, places; those were what Harry struggled with. Harry should be able to say easily that he was born on the second day of the eighth month of the year, if August slipped from his mind before he was questioned, but Harry didn’t seem very convinced when Sam told him to do that.
Harry hummed and the witch that set-up a travel pass glanced at him.
“Harry Potter?” she asked, her eyes looking at Harry’s forehead. “Your birthday is July thirty-first.”
Harry nodded at her, though Sam could see he was uncomfortable. As soon as they had a card that had their names, destination, and Sirius’s court case number on it, Sam rolled his eyes at Harry.
“Who are you going to believe?” Sam asked him in a whisper as he held the card out for Harry to grab. “Some random witch or your brother?”
“Are you going to be in the courtroom?” Harry asked, completely out of the blue.
“Yes,” Sam swore. Sam would like to see someone try and stop him. It was a criminal trial, there were no laws against public witnesses to a criminal trial, especially not those that encompassed charges of murder.
Sam had the laws printed and folded inside his suit jacket in case he needed them. Beside those laws rested his revolver, to be used in a worse case scenario.
“Then you’re going to find out that my birthday is actually the thirty-first of July,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.”
Sam didn’t have time for a reaction before they were jerked from the platform in the travel center clear to London. The second Sam’s feet touched solid ground—
“Why would you lie about your birthday?!”
Harry couldn’t answer him for a few minutes, since they were immediately accosted for identification. Sam handed over his ID badge to the wizard in black robes and Harry very warily handed over his wand.
“Try to not drool on it,” Sam sneered angrily when the wizard seemed oh so awed to hold Harry’s wand. Christ, it was disturbing.
Sam’s tone had the wizard moving quickly and it didn’t take long for Harry to be given back his wand and a badge that said ‘WITNESS’ beneath his name.
Harry politely returned the badge immediately.
“It’s actually Potter-Winchester,” he said. “Could you fix that?”
Sam ducked his head and hid his grin. That was the Winchester coming out in Harry, Sam was sure of it. Harry was stubborn about very few things, but (when he remembered it) his name was one of them.
The wizard was quick to change the badge then pointed them in the direction of the elevator.
“Level Ten, Courtroom A,” he said.
The Ministry of Magic was much busier than MACUSA had been, given the time difference. Sam didn’t push Harry for an answer on why he lied about his birthday, not when he could tell his brother was only trying to navigate the halls without being noticed.
It worked, for the most part, until they found the elevator.
There was a woman in a dark red robe that was stylishly cut to flatter her figure lingering by the elevator. She had sharp eyes that were searching the area intently and zeroed in on Harry as soon as he and Sam turned in the hallway.
“Harry!” The woman smiled, showing one golden tooth in the top row and Sam shifted to block his brother when she looked like she wanted to try and hug him.
“Oh, hello,” Harry said, blinking at the blonde woman from behind Sam. “Are you here to report on the trial?” he asked.
“I am.” The woman had peered at Sam’s ID badge clipped to the front of his suit jacket with glee before she thrust a hand at him. “Rita Skeeter, you must be the famous Sam Winchester!”
“Your deductive reasoning skills are astounding,” Sam said sarcastically as he shook her hand reluctantly. Sam recognized the name, she was the reporter who called Harry’s mom a slut and then turned around and called John a hero.
Sam didn’t used to have an opinion on reporters, but he definitely developed one since meeting his little brother.
Rita laughed brightly, either mistaking Sam’s insult for a compliment or choosing to ignore it.
“How are you feeling, Harry?” she asked Harry, who was busy repeatedly pushing the button for the elevator. “Nervous? Excited? Disappointed already?”
“Why would I already be disappointed?” Harry asked her. “It’s not - we didn’t miss it, did we?!”
Sam checked his watch; they didn’t. They still had fifteen minutes until the trial began.
“I only meant because of the previous mistake that kept godfather and godson separated for so long,” Rita said. When the elevator doors opened, she stepped inside with them and pulled a green feather from her bag. “How confident are you that a further mistake won’t be made today, Harry?”
“He has no comment at this time,” Sam said, speaking up before Harry could. That reporter was a shark who seemed to live for sensational stories; Sam didn’t want his brother to be on the front page with some critique of a government.
Yeah, they sucked, but Harry was fourteen, he didn’t need to be the face of a rebel.
“You are a clever one, aren’t you?” Rita asked Sam. Actually, she kind of purred it.
It was disturbing.
“He’s a genius,” Harry offered up. “He runs his own department.”
“Very interesting,” Rita said, eyeing Sam. “MACUSA hiring a muggle. Do you think that you outperform your magical coworkers, Sam?”
“I think,” Sam gave Harry a severe look, “that we have no further comment.”
Harry subtly nodded and then looked away as the elevator continued on its downward path. It made sense that level ten wouldn’t be upward, the Ministry of Magic did everything else backwards anyway, why not the way they numbered floors too?
Rita proved she wasn’t entirely useless when their doors opened for level six and she pressed her wand to the ‘close door’ button.
“Sorry, emergency!” she called to the waiting wizards. The doors slid closed in their disgruntled faces and Sam rolled his eyes when she looked at him, clearly seeking something she could use.
“Harry,” Rita tried smiling at Harry again and Sam openly bared his teeth at her as he shifted some. Sam didn’t like her, there was something wrong with the woman.
Maybe Sam hated reporters. If so, it was her fault. She was the only reporter he knew.
“How do you feel about the upcoming task?” Rita asked, attempting to lean around Sam to see Harry. “Are you scared? Angry that you’ve been entered? How do your brothers —”
“Like everything else,” Sam raised his voice to speak over her, “Harry has no comment.”
Rita huffed, but the woman was determined to get something out of them.
“One photograph?” she asked Sam with a flutter of her lashes. “It would be lovely to show that handsome face to my readers.”
Harry coughed, but Sam twisted his lips while he considered it.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Sam decided after carefully considering it. Rita was a shark, Harry was famous. There was a way there for them all to be happy.
Or less likely to be miserable anyway.
“You don’t print anything Harry or I may or may not have said or will say today without running it by me first and I’ll personally send you a picture of me, Harry, and our brother Dean that you can print.” Sam saw the spark of interest in her eyes and smirked when held his hand out. “Deal?”
“This covers only you and Harry,” Rita said as she immediately shook Sam’s hand. Sam felt slimy, like he made a deal with a demon, but if even demons held up their end of bargains, surely reporters had to too.
“That’s the worst mistake you’ve ever made,” Harry whispered to Sam when the ding of the elevator doors opening on level ten masked his voice.
“A photo is much less incriminating,” Sam assured him. He held Harry back for a moment, letting Rita show them the path to the courtroom as she practically ran on her heels to get there.
Sam wasn’t going to be able to coach Harry once they got inside and Sam knew that Harry would hate himself if something he mixed up ruined the trial. And since Sam was the reason Harry had the brain injury…
“Your name is Harry Potter-Winchester. Your godfather is Sirius Black. You first met him at Hogwarts. Sirius did not betray your parents, Peter Pettigrew did. Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Remus Lupin are all witnesses to the same events.”
Sam quickly and quietly repeated the story that Harry fed him back to him. It wasn’t fully detailed, Sam barely understood it, but Harry really only needed the names.
“Okay, it’s time,” Sam said. “Don’t forget, whatever happens, I’m - I’m here, okay?”
Sam didn’t know how much of a comfort that was, but it was the most he could do. Sam couldn’t force a judge to give a crap about Sirius Black. Sam couldn’t make Harry a perfect witness.
Sam could just hope things worked out for his little brother and be there if it didn’t.
“Thank you.” Harry straightened up and put on a decent game face. He was still pale, Sam could see the beads of sweat on his forehead and the way his fingers shook with nerves. It wasn’t bad though, Harry’s game face. It made Sam think of… Sam, actually.
“There you go,” Sam said bracingly, adopting his most supportive smile. “Let’s do this, huh?”
It was an absolute disaster, from start to finish.
They were met inside the doors by a woman who wore crisp navy robes and had her long black hair tied up in a tight bun. She offered Harry her hand first and smiled thinly at him.
“Andromeda Tonks,” she said, causing Sam’s heart to stutter some.
That… that was a coincidence, surely. The woman was not related to—
“I believe you’ve met my daughter, Nymphadora?”
Awesome.
The woman didn’t look remotely friendly when she offered Sam her hand.
“I’m representing Mister Black,” she said.
Which, if Sam remembered right, was a gross conflict of interest because Tonks had definitely been related to Sirius. It wasn’t as bad as Harry’s godfather’s lawyer being the mother of the chick that Sam stood up though… that was much worse.
“Sam Winchester,” Sam offered politely.
“I know,” Andromeda said with a hard look in her grey eyes. “Where is Dean Winchester? Harry’s legal guardian?”
“He couldn’t make it,” Sam said. “I’m Harry’s brother, I’m an adult. I’m here with him.”
“You will sit in the gallery,” Andromeda informed Sam. When she looked at Harry she was definitely much kinder. “You will join me on the floor. Come quickly now, they’re ready to begin.”
Sam was pointed toward a staircase to their left, which confused him at first. Once he gave Harry a final good luck pat on the shoulder and began taking the stairs, it made more sense.
The room wasn’t a courtroom as much as it was a chamber. The sides were raised up like bleachers and Sam couldn’t help but compare it to gladiatorial stadiums, which didn’t bode well for his confidence.
On the opposite side from where Sam had been directed, there were at least fifty witches and wizards dressed in dark red robes. They were all grim-faced, silent. It was like something out of a cult.
In the center of that side was a box with three seats, only two that were filled. One of the seats had Minister Fudge in it, who Sam knew to be a complete idiot. Another seat had a bright faced woman with clear eyes, a silver rimmed monocle, and a bun of strawberry blonde hair on top of her head. She looked moderately more intelligent than Fudge, but that wasn’t saying much, in Sam’s opinion.
Down in the center of the chamber was a single large chair where Sam could see Sirius sitting. There were chains around his wrists and ankles, keeping him bound there. Sam shivered, it didn’t seem comfortable. At a small table beside him sat Albus Dumbledore, dressed in his dark red robe. Andromeda pushed Harry toward the seat beside Dumbledore, but Sam saw Harry’s eyes whipping to the side continuously, looking toward the doors that led in the chamber from beneath the opposite stands.
Sam wanted to ask Harry what he was looking at, what had him ten more shades of pale, but someone whispered to him before he could even figure out how to get his questions answered.
“Sam.”
Sam looked to the side where his side of the stands were packed with witches and wizards. They were all wearing mostly casual clothes and a few were openly ogling Sam with blatant curiosity. Sam did stick out pretty badly in his suit, so did Harry, but he was relieved when he saw one of Harry’s professors, Remus Lupin, raising a hand to him mid-way down the aisle, in the row closest to the front of the stands.
Remus pointed at the seat beside him and Sam was too happy to move to take it, even if it put him directly across from Minister Fudge. And even if it put Sam directly between Remus Lupin and - awesome - Nymphadora Tonks.
“How is he?” Remus whispered to Sam immediately with his head angled toward him and his eyes down in the chamber.
“As ready as he can be,” Sam said truthfully.
“He’s not going to - ah, there we go.” Remus released a breath when Dumbledore did something that sent out a silver animal from the tip of his wand, directing it toward the doorways that Harry continued to look at.
It took Sam a moment to place the familiarity of the great silver bird, but he remembered Harry showing him his buck and telling Sam how he thought of his brothers when he made it. Sam also remembered Harry explaining how it was made to repel dementors, which sharpened the edge that Sam teetered on.
Dementors. Ten feet from his brother. Completely invisible to Sam’s eyes.
Sam grit his teeth together and watched Harry as Dumbledore tilted his head toward Harry’s and whispered something to him. Harry nodded and inched his chair just the slightest bit closer to Dumbledore’s.
The old man was a prick, but if he was keeping Harry protected from the soul-sucking monsters that Sam couldn’t even see to fight then… then so be it.
They were still having words when Sam caught him after the trial.
“They’re starting,” Tonks said in a near whisper. When Sam risked a glance at her, he found her eyes trained on her mom down in the chamber and she had her tan-colored wand clenched in her hands.
Fudge stood up and cleared his throat before addressing the courtroom at large.
“On this date, the twentieth of November, we are gathered for a criminal trial,” he said, reading some really old-fashioned looking scroll. “Offenses include one charge of murder of a wizard, twelve lesser charges of murder of a muggle by magical means—”
Sam scoffed, loudly. Remus twisted his foot to connect with Sam’s, though Sam was unsure if it was in agreement with his disapproval or in reprimand for the noise. Regardless, no one else seemed to notice.
“— and nineteen offenses under the International Statute of Secrecy committed by Sirius Orion Black. There is an additional offense for - hm… fleeing Azkaban after detainment and for failure to register as an animagus.”
Tonks shifted and when Sam glanced at her again, she had a small smirk curling up her lips.
“They invented a new law just for Sirius,” she breathed. Sam wanted to ask which one, but the minister was still talking.
“Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.”
Oh, Sam did not do enough research on the laws that would be influencing the case. Who was the trump judge? The Chief Warlock or the Minister?
“Witnesses for the defense,” Andomeda Tonks stood up as Fudge sank down to his seat, “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Magic.”
How was Dumbledore meant to be the witness for Sirius and an interrogator for the opposing side? It was conflicts of interest stacking on conflicts of interest.
“Also witness for the defense, Harry James Potter-Winchester—”
Sam rolled his eyes at the quiet gasps that went through both sides of the chamber. Heads began swiveling, searching out Harry, and Sam saw his little brother shrinking down in his seat.
“— student at Hogwarts School of Magic.”
“Is he?” Amelia Bones spoke up next, watching Andromeda with curiosity. “I was under the impression that Mister Potter no longer attended Hogwarts.”
“Harry is a remote student and completes eight hours monthly of supervised study by a Hogwarts professor,” Dumbledore said, his voice practically cheery compared to the rest. “By our school standards, that grants him a student placement within my school.”
“Ah, thank you,” Bones said. “Sirius Black, you have heard the charges you are being tried for today?”
Even Sam, who had no love loss for the douche that treated Harry like a comfortable jacket that he only needed when he was cold, couldn’t mistake the croak that came from Sirius as anything outside of raw fear.
“I have.”
Remus twitched beside Sam and Sam sort of… nudged his foot. From what Sam gathered, Remus was the last friend Sirius had in the world; or the other way around, maybe. Either way, if that was Sam’s best friend (…Sam realized then that his best friend was Dean, which both made sense and made Sam feel pathetic) that sounded so scared, Sam could use some support.
It was irrelevant that Sam liked Remus, even if Dean didn’t. Harry said Remus was a great teacher and even if the obvious signs of lycanthropy made Sam’s chest ache, he seemed like an alright dude.
“How does your client respond to these charges, Barrister Tonks?” Bones asked.
“My client will prove to the court today that he is innocent of the prior charges lobbied against his person and has been more than adequately punished for the new charges, of which he pleads guilty to.”
Sam… damn… Sam liked Andromeda Tonks. At a minimum, she was the most professional person involved so far, which didn’t say much.
“Very well.” Fudge sighed, proof of his own unprofessionalism, and focused on Sirius. “I will report that last June I was called to Hogwarts School of Magic on reports that Sirius Black had been apprehended. During my visit, Black had disappeared to evade detainment. Black, if you are allegedly innocent of the charges, why did you flee?”
“Oh I dunno, probably because nobody wanted to listen to him, you just wanted to have him kissed.”
There were dramatic gasps in the room and Sam was torn between pride in Dean Junior snarling the only reason innocent people fled law enforcement and exasperation at Harry’s blatant breach of courtroom protocol. Fudge shifted uneasily and Dumbledore put a calming hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“Harry is not incorrect,” Dumbledore said, more solemn than before. “On the evening of June 6th, I attempted to tell Minister Fudge that there was more to Sirius Black’s story than he would hear. Most unfortunately, you would not listen, Cornelius, which led Sirius to drastic measures.”
Fudge was visibly fuming when Dumbledore’s words carried a soft reproach that had others in the court sending him looks of disapproval.
“And that’s your opinion as a witness?” Fudge asked.
“It is,” Dumbledore said, cheerful once more. “Luckily, as my opinion can be agreed upon by no less than six others, I find that it carries a sense of truth.”
“Six witnesses?” Bones asked. She adjusted her monocle. “Apologies, Albus, I only see the one?”
“Sirius as well, of course,” Dumbledore said smoothly. “You could also hear the truth from two more students and two wizards. However, I understand that it was the decision of the court to only request the presence of the mildly famous one.”
Sam wasn’t the only one on his side of the courtroom to laugh at that downplay, and many members of the court exchanged uneasy frowns that were hopefully tinged with guilt.
“And who are the other two wizards?” Fudge asked. “Severus Snape?”
“Severus Snape was unfortunately quite unconscious during the majority of the evening,” Dumbledore said. “I, of course, meant Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.”
When another round of dramatic gasps happened, Sam began to feel as if he were watching some shitty court-drama show.
“Remus Lupin the werewolf and Peter Pettigrew the dead wizard? They do make for compelling witnesses,” Fudge said. When he looked to Bones for an agreement, she had her lips pursed tightly.
“Peter Pettigrew is currently alive and in hiding, but I’m certain you’ll want to hear that from Sirius,” Dumbledore said, his voice definitely cooler than it had been. “And I will thank you to not indicate that Remus is any less of an honest man in my presence, Cornelius. I find him to be the best sort of human being.”
“Flattery,” Remus muttered, a definite smile in his eyes.
“Interesting,” Bones said mildly. “Barrister Tonks, if your client is ready, the court would like to hear the truth of the matter in his words. Albus, if you would prepare the witness.”
Sam watched as Dumbledore leaned over and whispered something to Harry that had Harry glancing toward where the silver bird paced in front of the doors. Harry shook his head, Dumbledore whispered again.
When Harry turned in his seat and Sam swore his eyes were searching the crowd for him, he raised his hand and nodded. Dumbledore was a douche, but there were at least a hundred people in the chamber, Harry was safe enough.
Harry waited for a beat then nodded back and turned in his seat to face the front. When Albus tapped Harry on the top of his head with his wand, Sam was dying to know what he did.
“Muffling charm,” Remus told Sam softly. “It only keeps Harry from hearing what Sirius says so he can’t be accused of lying.”
“Why not send him from the room?” Sam wondered while Andromeda Tonks stated that her client was prepared.
“Because nobody’s going to ask Harry Potter to walk through a cluster of dementors,” Tonks answered Sam absently. “If he were anyone else, he’d be waiting in a chamber with a dementor guarding him.”
Thank God for Harry’s fame then.
Sam listened to Sirius’s story with half an ear at first, the rest of his hearing focused on what Remus confided to him in a very low whisper.
Apparently, because really Winchesters were just kicking bags for God, Harry heard his parents dying when he was near a dementor. Sam wondered, privately as he would never gossip about his brothers, if that was still true.
Because, if it were Sam, Sam thought he might remember the way Harry screamed when he broke himself free of the djinn trip. It would be a loop of Harry screaming, Dean dying in a hospital, Jessica burning, Harry’s skull flashing Sam as he performed chest compressions…
Yeah, it wasn’t like Harry didn’t have plenty of new horrible memories that a dementor could bring up for him. It made Sam feel especially great while he watched his brother and listened to Sirius talk about secret-keepers and betrayals.
It must suck… being fourteen and having so much stacked on him. How much of it was Sam’s fault for continuing to hunt when Dean wanted to quit and how much was a circumstance of what felt like fate?
… it was probably a majority of Sam’s fault. He decided then that he was done letting Harry tag along on cases. If Sam needed Dean, so be it, but Sam wasn’t going to let his decision to hunt hurt his brother again.
Harry didn’t need any opportunities to add horrible memories to his psyche.
It seemed a lot like Sirius was replaying some of his worst memories for the court while he told his story too. Sam hated to empathize with Sirius, but when he explained the pain he felt when he found Harry’s dad’s body, it struck a cord in Sam.
“James was - he was my best friend, my brother,” Sirius said thickly. “And he was laying on the ground with his eyes open and his glasses- God… his glasses were on straight. That’s what I remember when I had to step - I had to step over the body of my brother to find my godson and I remember that James had to be gone because his glasses were always crooked…”
Remus lifted his left fist to bite down on his thumb in a genuine show of pain. His eyes were misted and Sam gently put his hand on his shoulder. Sam couldn’t keep Sirius’s story from hurting him, but he wasn’t the only one that heard Sirius and felt pain.
Plenty of the public side of the courtroom had soft faces and Sam could see Rita Skeeter a few rows behind him scribbling away as she undoubtedly worked to get the story down.
Sirius was uninterrupted for the majority of his story, even if people couldn’t contain themselves from gasping and looking stupid. It wasn’t until Sirius said how he confronted the man responsible for betraying Harry’s parents that Bones interrupted him.
“Why?” she asked. She cleared her throat and elucidated. “Mister Black, if you were as close to the Potters at the time of their death as you claim, why did you choose to chase after Pettigrew when you, by all legal rights, could have taken James Potter’s son to seek treatment after the attack?”
That was a stupid question. Sirius did it for the same reason that John spent his life hunting Azazel and Sam couldn’t give up hunting:
Revenge.
“I wish I hadn’t,” Sirius said, his voice raspy with emotion. He looked over at Harry and the two of them stared at each other. Sam couldn’t see their faces, but he knew the silent message passing between them.
“If I could go back, I would have taken my godson,” Sirius said. “At the time I thought all the crushing grief I felt was hate and I wanted to see Peter pay for what he had done to our friends, my family.”
When a monster took someone you loved so fiercely, that love could twist and morph to a burning desire to see justice, vengeance, wrecked on the loved one’s behalf.
And, Sam realized with no small swoop of his stomach, that… yeah, that said a lot about Sam and his issues. Sam thought Sirius was as an immature prick who treated Harry like shit, but Sam also hated Sirius because he had made the same choice that John had - revenge over family.
So… Dean had been right.
Sam would never tell him.
Sirius finished his story with his arrest and it was quiet in the courtroom while Bones and Fudge conferred in whispers for a few moments.
“I see,” Fudge eventually said to the room at large. “We would now like to hear about the events that happened on the 6th of June from Mister Harry Potter.”
“Ah, Cornelius, Harry prefers to be addressed by his legal name of Potter-Winchester,” Dumbledore said, begrudgingly getting a nod of approval from Sam. Dumbledore wagged a finger toward the minister. “You’re quite lucky he didn’t hear you, Harry takes his name very seriously.”
Fudge flushed when people chuckled but still waved his hand in a ‘get on with it’ motion. Dumbledore tapped Harry’s head with his wand again and Sam watched Harry full-on shiver beside him.
That was when Sam thought about how long it took Sirius to tell his story… Sam hoped it hadn’t been long enough to reset the tick in Harry’s brain that controlled his Broca Area.
It had been though, because Harry couldn’t catch a break.
“Will you state your name for the court?” Bones asked Harry.
“Yes, it’s… it’s- er…”
“Oh, fuck,” Remus groaned.
‘Oh, fuck’ was about right.
“I would like to remind the court that Mister Potter-Winchester is suffering from a brain anomaly diagnosed by St. Mungo’s Hospital as anomic aphasia,” Andromeda said when Harry couldn’t repeat his own name. “My witness was in a car accident in October and is still suffering from the side-effects.”
“Aah, yes, yes, I do recall.”
Sam didn’t imagine the way that Fudge found Sam’s eyes in the crowd. Sam tried to appear neutral, but he was sure some of his dislike for the man shined through.
‘Not dangerous’, what a dumbass.
“I have been informed that Mister Potter-Winchester’s memory is in tact, though it is the verbalization of his memories that is affected?” Bones asked after shuffling papers to find one in front of her.
“That’s correct,” Andromeda said. “If you would allow my witness some creative liberties to describe the events, he is able to give a full recall.”
“Very well.” Bones gave Harry a thin smile. “Do you know your name?”
“I do,” Harry said quickly. “I just - if you said it…?”
“Brilliant,” Tonks whispered, her voice coated in ten layers of sarcasm. “Positively brilliant.”
While Bones reworded her question for Harry, Sam leaned toward Remus.
“What’s Harry’s birthday?” Sam asked.
Remus’s eyebrows twitched. “The thirty-first of July.”
What a weird freaking thing for Harry to lie about.
Sam focused on the trial happening, resolving to ask Harry about it later. Harry was asked to tell them, in his own words, what happened in June.
‘In his own words’ might have been a phrase they regret as Harry didn’t have any other words to use.
Harry turned to face Sam again before he started and Sam raised his chin, made a show of squaring his shoulders. If Harry was about to screw the defense, he should at least do it confidently. Harry nodded and Sam watched with pride when Harry straightened in his seat and faced the court head on.
Maybe Sam wasn’t being fair to Harry’s mom, she sounded like she had been great, but Sam thought that was the Winchester in Harry shining then.
“I was outside of my school with my friends that night,” Harry said clearly. “My friend had a pet rat that jumped from his pocket and started running away, so we chased it.”
“That friend being…?” Bones asked.
“He has red hair and a load of brothers. His dad and brother work here?”
“Weasley,” someone in the court said. “Arthur’s son Ron would be the best fit.”
“Him! Ron! Yes.” Harry nodded. “Ron chased his rat and caught it just before we saw a black dog. The dog tried to get the rat, but Ron wouldn’t let him so - well, so the dog took both of them.”
Dramatic bastard.
“My other friend and I chased them and when we caught up, the dog turned out to be him.” Harry pointed to Sirius. “It- it was rather dramatic, actually, because I’d been planning on killing him.”
Sam let out a startled laugh at the breezy way Harry just admitted to a court that he was plotting murder. Sam wasn’t the only one to laugh, Sirius was louder than almost anyone and even Dumbledore chuckled as he stared up at the ceiling of the chambers.
Bones’s lips twitched. “I see. Go on please.”
“Well, he’s quite clever, and he used Ron’s wand to do the spell that yanked my wand from my hand and my friend’s wand from her hand too. Which, was rather annoying.
“I tried to strangle him. Sorry, again,” Harry told Sirius. “We had a scuffle and he said he was going to… hm… I forgot what he said. Anyway, that was when he said that the rat bloke was alive.”
“For the sake of the official record, I am going to provide Harry with a name to clarify who the rat bloke is,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Harry, is the rat bloke Severus Snape?”
“No.”
“Remus Lupin?”
“No, but thank you, I’ll need that name in a moment.”
“Is the rat bloke Peter Pettigrew?”
“Yes! Him!”
Sam knew the story from there, it was just funny listening to Harry tell it —
“Then the rat truly was Peter Pettigrew, and I promise nobody was more shocked than I was. Actually, Ron was pretty disgusted, he shared a bed with him.”
“Hm? Professor Snape was injured? I don’t remember, really. I have a brain injury, you see. I’m sure it was his fault though.”
“No, the crazy witch that teaches that class about predictions told me that Peter would escape, only it didn’t make sense at the time. He’s a servant to - er… you know, the bloke that killed my parents.”
“Then the dementors attacked us and I definitely told the minister all of this that night, except he said I was confused. I wasn’t confused then and I’m not confused now. This bloke is innocent and my brother said you should all be removed from your jobs for wrongful imprisonment.”
Sam sort of felt like clapping when Harry finished, his hands folded on the table before him, his eyes fixed forward in what Sam knew would be a challenging stare-off.
“I have a question,” Fudge said. “How did Black escape the castle that night?”
“I flew—”
“I gave him my invisibility cloak and broomstick before we left the shack,” Harry said, quickly speaking over Sirius. “No offense, but I figured if you didn’t give him a trial the first time around that you might not listen that night either. And I was right, wasn’t I?”
“He’s quite like his mother,” Remus whispered, grinning, just as Sam was thinking how much Dean would like to see their brother go full Dean on the freaking Minister of Magic.
Fudge looked embarrassed and Sam thought it was a good sign that many of the court in their cult-robes were sending him disapproving stares.
“I’ve got no more questions,” Fudge said. “Madam Bones?”
“I would have liked to hear this from Remus Lupin, instead of a fourteen-year-old,” Bones said flatly. “Aside from that, I have nothing at this time. Albus? Have you anything to add?”
“Mm, yes,” Dumbledore said after a long moment. “I would like to say that I fully believe this series of events to be the truth and find that Sirius is innocent of the prior charges and has more than suffered for the sole count of being an unregistered animagus.”
“Barrister Tonks?” Bones asked.
“I would once again like to inform the court that my client is willing to testify again under the effects of Veritaserum,” Andromeda said. “And if the court would like, we are also willing to call forth more witnesses to testify that Peter Pettigrew is alive and responsible for the deaths of those muggles thirteen years ago.”
“Understood. Does our witness have anything to add?”
Sam leaned forward with his fingers crossed, watching Harry and hoping if he had something to add that it would be eloquent and respectful and not —
“I think it’s ridiculous that we’re here and it’s unfair that my godfather sat in prison for twelve years for a crime he didn’t commit.”
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, considering.
“And Mister Black?” Bones looked to Sirius. “Before we convene to a vote, do you have any final words?”
“I would have killed Peter if I could have, but I didn’t kill him and I didn’t kill anyone else,” Sirius said. “All I want is to be able to walk down the road, go watch my godson in the tournament he’s in, and to move past this all.”
“I see.” Bones straightened up and Fudge stood up with his hands raised.
“All in favor of finding Sirius Orion Black guilty of the murder of a wizard?” Fudge asked.
Sam started counting, but it didn’t take long. There were only eight hands of the red-cloaked court members that were raised.
“Sirius Black has been cleared of that charge,” Bones said.
“Those in favor of finding Sirius Orion Black guilty of twelve counts of murder of muggles?”
The same eight hands rose.
“Sirius Black has been cleared of those charges.”
Remus started laughing silently, his entire body was shaking beside Sam.
“Those in favor of finding Sirius Orion Black guilty of nineteen counts of offenses under the International Statute of Secrecy?”
Only seven hands that time.
“Sirius Black has been cleared of those charges.”
“He’s going free.” Remus was - oh, Sam looked over at him and he was actually crying, so Sam quickly looked away.
“Those in favor of finding Sirius Orion Black guilty on the sole count of fleeing from Azkaban?”
That count took longer, Sam thought he had twenty-two votes to convict. Fudge counted more slowly than Sam and shook his head at Bones.
“Sirius Black has been cleared of that charge.”
“And those in favor of finding Sirius Orion Black guilty on the sole charge of failure to register as an animagus?”
The majority of hands went up then. Not all of them, but most of them. Even Bones voted that time.
“Sirius Black, you have been found guilty of the charge for failure to register as an animagus,” Bones told him.
“It’s a 90-day sentence!” Tonks laughed while the court erupted in cheers. Sam watched the chains binding Sirius in place disappear and the first thing Sirius did was jump to his feet and rush to Harry.
Harry wasn’t crying when he let Sirius grab him in a crushing hug, but he didn’t look far from it.
Sam clapped with everyone else when he saw the fierce sort of way that Harry held Sirius. Harry was relieved, happy, holding Sirius like it meant the world to him.
“I think… I think Sirius has been punished plenty,” Sam said quietly, smiling softly to see that something had finally gone right for his little brother.
Screw Sirius, honestly, but that kid deserved a damn win.
It only took a little longer for the court to officially declare that Sirius Black had already more than served his punishment and to end the hearing. Sam caught up with the others down in the chamber just in time to hear Sirius invite Harry to get lunch to celebrate.
“And Sam, of course!” Sirius cried, turning a blinding smile toward Sam. There were tears soaking his face, but Sam had never seen him look so happy. It made him look younger, less insane, not as much of an asshole.
“Here, eat this first.” Remus pushed through the tight cluster of people to shove a giant chunk of chocolate toward Harry and Sirius both. “For the dementors,” he explained.
“Moony!” Sirius laughed and pulled Remus toward him for a sideways hug that he didn’t have to release Harry for. “They cleared me!”
“I heard,” Remus said, beaming. “Everyone knows you didn’t do it now, Pads.”
“Did I hear lunch?” Tonks had joined her mother and grinned at Sirius. “You’re buying, right?”
“I think I’ll buy,” Dumbledore offered, seeming just as pleased as the others. “Sirius, where would you like to go? I will have to invite Minerva, she would never forgive me otherwise, so Hogsmeade might be best.”
“Harry?” Sirius grinned at where Harry was tucked under his arm. “Are you in?”
Harry looked torn and Sam figured it was his fault. Sam was a crappy brother, Harry was already better at it than he was.
“We’ll get the car later,” Sam told Harry, his meaning clear: If Harry wanted to go, Sam would go.
“We’re in,” Harry told Sirius.
Which was how Sam found himself being dragged along to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade for what was more of a party than a lunch. The bartender closed her doors after a brief conversation with Dumbledore and the mood was practically giddy with everyone sharing congratulations and occasional cheers.
Sam met a few people he didn’t know; a woman named Minerva McGonagall that said she had been Harry’s teacher and Head of House, Ted Tonks, Tonks’s dad. Sam also met a few of Tonks’s coworkers that said they went to school with Sirius.
It was pretty busy, but Sam didn’t mind. Not when every time he saw his brother, he saw him smiling so widely that it had to be painful.
Sam was watching Harry carry on a loud and laughter filled conversation with Sirius and McGonagall when Tonks slid up beside where he was leaning against the bar.
“He makes a great witness, really,” Tonks said, casually offering Sam a bottle of something. “If I’m ever arrested, I do hope I can get him on my side. It’s hard to argue with the Boy-Who-Lived and not look like a pillock in the news.”
“It does give him some leeway, doesn’t it?” Sam agreed with a laugh. “He’s lucky he’s famous - no, wait… that’s not what I - you know what I mean.”
“I get it.” Tonks grinned at Sam, crooked and kind. “I met your other brother last weekend, you know. He’s a bit funny.”
“You met Dean?” Sam asked, pretty surprised by that. Sam had spent a couple of hours with Dean on Sunday night helping him get registered for his classes that would start in January and Dean had never mentioned it.
And it definitely seemed like the sort of thing Dean would bring up.
“Yup, I had been looking for you, I thought maybe I’d kick your arse or something, but I found Dean instead.” Tonks shrugged, still grinning. “You’re lucky to have brothers, you know. I wish I had a couple that would wingman me.”
Sam wanted to laugh and explain that Dean only played wingman when Sam didn’t want or need him to. But Sam figured he did owe Tonks an apology, actually… it wasn’t exactly kind, what he did to her.
“Hey.” Sam put the drink down on the counter and turned to give her his complete attention for a moment. “Tonks, I’m sorry, about last time I was here. I…” Sam trailed off, unsure how to explain himself.
Sam was interested, or he wanted to be. But Sam wasn’t Dean, he didn’t do anything casual, as much as he wanted to. Sam loved Jessica, he felt a connection with Madison. Tonks was beautiful, funny, smart; but the last two women Sam had slept with were dead and Sam couldn’t help but think that if he were different, better, that they wouldn’t be.
Sam didn’t have to explain though because apparently Dean had done it for him, in his own way.
“Your brother told me,” Tonks said, waving a hand airily. “It’s why we aren’t fighting right now.” She winked before placing that soft hand on Sam’s forearm. “I didn’t know you lost someone, Sam, I might have been a bit more tactful.”
“I think leaving your room number with the grumpy bartender was like the epitome of tact,” Sam said, grateful that Tonks didn’t seem angry.
“Oi, Aberforth gave me the idea!” Tonks laughed. “He’s as bad as his brother, honestly, very meddling. That’s what happens when you get to be their age, you get bored and start playing with people for fun.”
“My ears are burning!”
Sam looked over and saw Dumbledore had found them. He had a smile for Sam, one that Sam didn’t return.
“Miss Tonks, may I borrow Mister Winchester for a moment?” Dumbledore asked politely. “I received quite the letter from a very angry owl that I believe I should respond to.”
“Sure.” Tonks released Sam’s arm with one more squeeze. “I think I’ll go properly congratulate my cousin, see if I can get a jump on any other wizards who faked their death…”
Dumbledore chuckled and the two of them watched Tonks navigate across the room, pausing to speak with the man with the creepy blue eyes that Harry’s friends called Professor Moody.
“May I call you Sam?” Dumbledore asked Sam once they were fully alone. He smiled kindly. “You may, of course, call me Albus.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Sam said, hardening himself. “Just so you know though, if you don’t tell me right now what your plan for Saturday is, I’m going to get a lot more creative with what I call you.”
“Understood,” Dumbledore - Albus, whatever - said. “I would like to tell you my plan, if only because I would hate for- hm, how did you word it? Ah, I would hate to be ‘so filled with silver bullets that my family is unable to identify me.’”
Sam might have gotten a little wordy in his letter, but with Harry’s life on the line…
Sam shrugged and took a casual drink of the beer that Tonks gave him, showing how very little he thought of his own threat.
“I do need your word that you will not tell Harry what my plan is,” Dumbledore asked Sam seriously. “I understand how close you two are, but I believe any forewarning may ruin the plan.”
“If I don’t like the plan, I’m telling him,” Sam told him bluntly, figuring it was best to get that out of the way then. “And either way, I’m going to tell Dean.”
“Perfectly acceptable,” Dumbledore decided. “As you know, Harry will be transfiguring a niffler to fetch the egg for him, the rest of my plan is quite simple really…”
Sam listened to the plan, then he made Dumbledore repeat himself just so Sam didn’t misunderstand anything. While the party continued around them, Sam debated every logistical area and outcome of the plan.
By the time Sirius was egged on to make a speech, Sam had to admit that it wasn’t a terrible plan.
“Harry speaks highly about you,” Sam told Albus. “I can see why.”
“Your brother flatters me,” Albus said humbly. “He’s a good boy though, I am happy that he has such dedicated brothers willing to assassinate me on his behalf.”
Sam laughed, feeling better than he had in days, and they fell quiet when Sirius was pushed to his feet by Remus. As Sirius stood up, he pulled Harry up with him to keep his arm around Harry’s shoulders.
“I’m grateful to everyone who helped me today,” Sirius said, smiling at every person in the room. “Harry, Albus, Andy, Remus… Thank you. I never thought I’d - well, hell…” Sirius rubbed his face with his arm and forced a quivering smile. “I’m just glad to be here with my godson and I’m so bloody grateful that people know now… they know I didn’t betray James.”
“Hear, hear!” Remus said as he raised his glass. “To James!”
Most of the people in the bar raised their glasses. “To James!”
Sam didn’t know James, so he didn’t drink to James. Sam saw the ecstatic joy on Harry’s face and that was what Sam drank to.
That kid deserved a fucking win more than anyone.