Interrogation

Lupin fell silent for a moment.

He always felt that what Moody wanted to say wasn't "simple," but rather "foolish."

But… trusting Sirius was, for him, simply a given!

He had been wrong for eleven years; was he to continue being wrong?

Though the four of them had always stuck together, there were still varying degrees of closeness between them.

Sirius betraying James had made Lupin hate him more than anyone; but the moment he learned Peter Pettigrew was alive, he instantly believed he had been mistaken.

He should have trusted his heart's judgment more, instead of listening to the so-called "facts" that everyone else repeated.

But these feelings were probably something Moody couldn't understand.

So Lupin merely forced a smile and whispered, "I believe him."

Harry, gathering his courage, faced Moody's terrifying face and said, "M-me too."

Moody's magical blue eye suddenly fixed on him, and at the same time, his real black eye also turned to Harry.

Harry was a little nervous, his palms sweating, but he still insisted, "I believe the godfather my dad chose for me… isn't a traitor!"

Moody let out a laugh, but uncharacteristically, it wasn't laced with sarcasm.

"...Kid!"

He grumbled.

Suddenly, the entire house fell silent.

The door on the side of the interrogation room opened, and several wizards entered—Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, a grey-haired witch wearing a monocle, and a fierce-looking wizard with lion-like hair.

They sat on the highest stools in the center.

Then, a dozen more people in magenta robes walked in, seating themselves on either side. All of them looked solemn, their faces etched with authority.

All sounds in the interrogation room quickly ceased.

A sharp rapping sound echoed, and the grey-haired witch said expressionlessly, "Bring Sirius Black forward."

Lupin lunged forward, his hands gripping the back of the chair in front of him, turning his knuckles white. Harry, meanwhile, instinctively stood up.

Moody put down his flask and leaned on his cane with both hands.

Wade looked up, towards a small door in the corner.

The door opened.

Harry almost cried out, and a brief, buzzing murmur went through the crowd.

Two cloaked creatures, nearly three meters tall, floated in slowly. Their scabbed, waterlogged hands clutched the arms of the person between them, guiding him towards the armchair in the middle of the room.

The faces beneath the creatures' cloaks seemed to breathe, inhaling deeply, and a chilling sensation swept through the room.

Even from that distance, Harry felt his hands and feet turn cold. Many of the wizards also showed expressions mixed with disgust and fear.

"What's... what are those?" Harry asked.

"Dementors," Wade replied.

His Occlumency was quite good now, so the Dementors didn't affect him much.

—So those are Dementors.

Harry thought to himself.

He had heard before that many prisoners in Azkaban went mad and found it unbelievable. But now, seeing Dementors with his own eyes, he suddenly understood.

He looked at the person held between the Dementors.

He hung his head as if unconscious, his dirty, tangled long hair falling messily, his skin as white as wax, his body so thin he looked like a skeleton.

A set of ragged old clothes clung to him, like he was wrapped in rags. Shackles were on his bony ankles, and an iron chain dragged on the ground, clanking.

Wade suddenly heard a clattering sound. He looked up and saw Lupin staring intently at the skeletal Sirius, his face tight and expressionless, his hands trembling slightly.

Wade lowered his eyes.

The Dementors placed Sirius in the central chair, and the chains on the armrests suddenly glowed golden, wrapping tightly around Sirius like snakes, binding him there.

Then, they slowly left the room, floating as lightly as black smoke.

A distinct sigh of relief echoed in the interrogation room. The reporters craned their necks, staring intently at Sirius in the chair, and snapped a series of photographs.

Among the wizards in the front row, only Dumbledore remained calm; the others showed clear displeasure.

A sharp rapping sound echoed again, and the reporters had to lower their cameras, turning instead to pick up their quills, their faces still showing excitement.

"Record!" the grey-haired witch said in a cold voice: "Trial on November 14th, re-examining the case of Sirius Black's allegiance to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, leaking the location of James and Lily Potter, and the murder of thirteen people after his treachery was exposed!"

"Interrogators: Minister of Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge; Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Susan Bones; Head of the Auror Office Rufus Scrimgeour. Trial Recorder: Albireo Ima."

"Defense Representative: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Dumbledore, sitting in a side chair, stood up and said, "Given the poor state of the defendant, Sirius Black, I shall present his case on his behalf."

A faint stir went through the audience in the interrogation room, and most of the Wizengamot members, clad in their plum-colored robes, smiled at Dumbledore.

Fudge's displeasure became even more apparent. He glanced left and right, seemingly hoping someone would speak up in opposition. But neither Amelia Susan Bones nor Rufus Scrimgeour said a word.

Fudge finally conceded, "Well... alright, Dumbledore... that is permissible..."

Dumbledore ignored Fudge's reluctance, stood up, and strode over to Sirius, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The warmth of the living hand seemed to pull Sirius out of some oppressive state. He slowly raised his head and looked at Dumbledore.

His eyes, hidden in their sunken sockets, appeared deep and dark, devoid of any emotion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I believe most of you here will recall that yesterday, we interrogated Peter Pettigrew in this very room."

Dumbledore continued, "Given the long duration and complex nature of the case, we specifically permitted the use of Veritaserum during the interrogation..."

Hearing that familiar name, Sirius was suddenly stunned. Then, as if a faint light flickered in his eyes.

He stared intently at Dumbledore.

In the audience, some people showed worried expressions, while others motioned for the white-bearded old headmaster to stand further away—they seemed to think Sirius might lunge and attack Dumbledore.

But Dumbledore did not move. He continued his statement.

"Under the influence of the Potions, Peter Pettigrew confessed to his crimes without reservation. He admitted that he was the true Secret-Keeper for the Potter couple and that he was the one who revealed their location to Voldemort..."

Sirius suddenly let out a hoarse roar—

"Peter Pettigrew? He's still alive?"

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