THE CHESSMASTER

VOLUME THREE: BLACK BISHOP

by Flye Autumne

A/N: Just your typical disclaimer for this entire work: I own nothing. All of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Note: This is the third volume of The Chessmaster series. If you haven't read Black Pawn or White Knight yet, you should do so before reading this volume.

Also: Be aware that the rating for this fic has gone up from T to M, due to coarse language.

CHAPTER ONE: GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT

High Security Cell Block

Azkaban Prison, Undisclosed Location, United Kingdom

1 July 1993

It was dark in the cell, and the air was filled with the acrid scent of urine and a faint hint of blood. The man inside gave no notice to the foul odor, absorbed as he was in painstakingly carving yet another tally mark into the wall. There were 4260 of the small notches - not that anyone besides the prisoner was counting.

Sirius Black finished etching the 4261st tally mark into the wall before running his finger over it. "I'm so sorry, Harry," he murmured. "So very sorry."

Sirius rocked back on his heels, shivering as the chill of the Dementors coupled with the coolness of the North Sea washed over him. For a moment, it was hard to breathe as the iciness of death incarnate overwhelmed his senses. Shuddering, Sirius drew one breath, then another, firmly stifling the rising feeling of panic. He couldn't afford to lose it. To fall apart. To tumble into yawning abyss…

A key rattled in the lock, and Sirius scrambled backwards on all fours, panic rising in an uncontrollable surge. This was it. This was the end.

Sirius braced himself, trying to think of a happy memory, something, anything before the deathly rattle…

"Mr. Black," said an unfamiliar voice. "Please follow me."

Sirius stood on shaking legs and limped forward.

The end. This is the end, the end. Sirius clamped down on his thoughts. He couldn't afford to lose it. Not here, not now.

Much to his surprise, the guard didn't put him in cuffs, but merely allowed him to walk in the dim light of the man's canine Patronus. They wound their way slowly through the high security cell block, Bellatrix's eerie singing following them as they descended down towards the yard.

"Sing a Song of Sixpence

A bag full of rye

Four and twenty naughty boys

All baked in a pie

When the pie was opened

The boys did not sing

For they had been dead

And set before a king!"

Bellatrix's laughter chased them through the yard, and Sirius swallowed. So it was to be a public execution, then. Perhaps Bellatrix's words were prophetic. It would soon be over. He would see Lily and James again, and tell them how sorry he was, so very sorry. Sirius' mind froze. Will they be forgiving? I've disappointed them, failed to kill Peter, failed to take care of Harry...

They trod across the dead grass of the yard, and into the guard house. Sirius stared, stopping dead in his tracks. What in the name of Merlin was going on? Was he getting a last meal? Sirius scoffed. Of course not.

"If you would hurry along, Mr. Black."

Sirius trudged onward, mind reeling. He barely registered their entrance into the guard house or their turn into the visitor section. It wasn't until they exited the prison proper that Sirius froze.

"What's," he croaked, voice hoarse from disuse, "going on?"

The guard opened his mouth to reply, but another man answered.

"You have been released from Azkaban, Mr. Black," said a smooth voice. Lucius Malfoy strode towards him, black and silver robes immaculate, "did no one tell you?"

Sirius' mind spun. What other universe had he landed in that Lucius bloody Malfoy was announcing his freedom? Was he hallucinating?

"No," Sirius managed. "Why are you here?" he asked eloquently.

Lucius examined his fingernails. "Narcissa is...indisposed, making me the closest thing you have to family."

Well, Bellatrix was in prison, Sirius rationalized. "What about Andromeda?"

"Family with enough political clout to get you out of Azkaban," Lucius amended as he rummaged around in his robes pocket, eventually withdrawing several pages of the Daily Prophet. "Take a moment to catch up, would you? And after that -" Lucius wrinkled his nose. "You could really use a shower."

Sirius took the proffered pages, jaw dropping as he read.

SIRIUS BLACK: FRAMED FOR MURDER

Sirius Black, once one of Britain's most notorious criminals, is innocent after all, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. The betrayal of James and Lily Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the gruesome murder of Peter Pettigrew and thirteen muggles took place nearly twelve years ago, yet it still casts a shadow on our collective conscience, reminding us of the terror of the Dark Uprising. We were happy to let memories of such horrific events slide to the back of our recollections until one man pointed out a simple fact: Sirius Black, along with several other convicted 'Death Eaters', never received a trial.

Lord Thomas Gaunt's revelation was announced to the House of Lords during early June amid great skepticism. Lord Gaunt urged the Wizengamot to vote to reopen the cases of Sirius Black, Edwin Travers, Augustus Rookwood, Hector Mulciber, and Antonin Dolohov due to a lack of a trial on the part of Black and Travers, and a failure to comply with proper proceedings on the behalf of Rookwood, Mulciber, and Dolohov. Lord Gaunt's proposition, while initially presumed preposterous, was quickly backed by Lords Avery, Carrow, Malfoy, Nott, and Yaxley. Several others followed suit, and the resulting investigation was shocking: Sirius Black was, indeed, innocent, and the true culprit was none other than Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew has since been stripped of his Order of Merlin and is on the run. Information and sightings of Pettigrew should be reported immediately to the Auror Department.

FRAMED continues on page 14.

RATTED OUT: PETTIGREW AT FAULT FOR THE 1981 MURDER OF JAMES AND LILY POTTER

No holds were barred at the reexamination of the Black trial - or lack thereof - on Tuesday, writes Mina Rae Vance, Legal Correspondent. After the Wizengamot decision to re-open the cases of several convicted Death Eaters, Wizarding Britain could not have been more shocked at the truths they uncovered. Lawyers discovered gross breaches of legal conduct in the cases of Augustus Rookwood, Hector Mulciber, and Antonin Dolohov, and a complete lack of trial on the behalf of Sirius Black and Edwin Travers. As pages of legalese were deciphered, experts began to put together a disturbing story: not only had Black not received a trial, he was innocent. The true culprit was none other than Peter Pettigrew.

In the original 1981 Auror report, Pettigrew was declared dead when Black allegedly blew up a street with a single blasting curse. The only surviving piece of Pettigrew was thought to be his finger, and the wizard was posthumously awarded an Order of Merlin, Third Class. While a comprehensive review of events is still be compiled, one fact is know for certain: the finger phenomena is impossible. Furthermore, archived Pensieve memories from Black confirm that Pettigrew, not him, was the Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter.

The legal negligence in the Black affair had never been as apparent as when the Pensieve memories were discovered. Not only does this speak of a suppression of evidence, but also of clear malicious intent. Thus far, leads are not forthcoming; however, two individuals were heavily involved in the trials following the Dark Uprising: Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, and the then head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Lord Bartemius Crouch.

Neither Dumbledore nor Crouch were available for comment.

Sirius snapped his jaw shut, mind still spinning. Dumbledore. Dumbledore had betrayed him. Dumbledore had gamed the system to let Sirius rot in Azkaban? Sirius shook his head. He couldn't believe it. Wouldn't. Dumbledore was on his side - he was a good man - or was he?

"How?" he managed.

Lucius smiled tightly. "Lord Gaunt has many connections."

Sirius thought hard for a moment, trying to dredge up any recollection of Lord Gaunt. He drew a blank.

"Why?" Sirius asked, still scrambling to piece his thoughts together.

"Lord Gaunt has many reasons."

Sirius stared, agape. Something was obviously afoot - even he could determine that with his prison-addled senses. There had to be some reason for Lucius Malfoy, of all people, to arrive at Azkaban and announce that he, Sirius Black, was free. He didn't like it, didn't like the smell of it, not one bit.

"...Sirius."

Sirius shook his head to clear it, belatedly realizing he'd been lost in thought. "What?"

"I asked if you were ready to go, Sirius, or if you would prefer to continue peppering me with queries."

Sirius swallowed. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as it were. He'd be free from the literal soul-sucking demons, but among those who metaphorically twisted and took away what they pleased.

"Get me out of this fucking hellhole."

Offices of the Daily Prophet

Diagon Alley, London, England

2 July 1993

Rita scribbled away feverishly, rapidly cross-referencing sources. Her initial article on the Pettigrew-Black situation had made her the de facto expert, which was excellent apart from the lengthy exposé she was now tasked with writing.

A knock sounded on her office door, and Rita quickly pasted a smile onto her face. "Come in!"

The door opened to reveal a thin man in shabby robes and graying hair.

Rita grinned, cat-like. "Remus Lupin," she purred. "So nice of you to stop by."

Lupin smiled tightly. "A pleasure as always, to see you, Rita." The words didn't reach his eyes, and he looked around the room cagily, almost as if he was expecting an ambush.

"Sit," Rita said, gesturing to the chair in front of her. "Do you mind if I use a QuickQuotes Quill?"

Lupin gave her another one of his tight smiles. "I would prefer if you didn't, actually, although a DictaQuill is fine."

Rita raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the man's awareness, then selected a black DictaQuill and set it on her parchment.

"Interviewer, Rita Skeeter," she said as the DictaQuill danced across the paper. "Interviewee, Remus Lupin. Interview location, London. Date, 2 July 1993. Time, approximately 11:30. Mr. Lupin, if you could give a bit of background on yourself?"

"My name is Remus Lupin, and I graduated Hogwarts back in 1978, where I was a member of Gryffindor House."

"And who were your friends at Hogwarts?"

"James Potter," Lupin began, sadness flashing briefly in his eyes, "Sirius Black...and Peter Pettigrew."

"Tell me more about them."

Lupin sighed, nostalgia filling his features. "James was always the leader. He was the one who brought us together in the first place - we were from such different backgrounds - yet James was able to see past that and after our first night at Hogwarts, we became the best of friends.

"Sirius was the joker of the group. He had to be, given the dynamics in his family, and the political situation at the time.

"Peter was quiet, and a bit of a tag-along." Lupin looked down. "I never expected…"

"Never expected what?"

"That he would betray Lily and James."

Rita made a go-on gesture, and slowly, but surely, Lupin began to recount the story of Lily and James Potter, the Fidelius Charm, and the switch of the Secret Keepers. Rita could hardly keep from smiling as Lupin told the entire sordid tale. It was both heart-wrenching and riveting, and would surely grant her another front page article. No sooner had she ushered Lupin out of her office then the head editor invited himself in.

Rita looked up from her article draft. "What the hell do you want, Gresco?"

The wizard scratched his head, tousling slightly greasy gray hair. "How do you feel about taking another piece on this week, in addition to the Black-Pettigrew deal?"

Rita raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for me?"

Gresco shrugged. "The usual joy of bringing news to our adoring public - and the

opportunity to personally interview Lord Gaunt."

Now this was a different kettle of grindylow. "Is this about the wizarding education classes?"

Gresco nodded. "They're starting this year."

"I'll do it," Rita said. "But I'd better be getting overtime."

"Consider it done."

Gresco left, leaving Rita alone in her office. A quick flick of her wand shut and locked her door, then she cracked her knuckles. It was time, at long last, to make ground on the issue of Thomas Gaunt.

Personal Office Space of Cornelius Fudge

Ministry of Magic, London, England

2 July 1993

Cornelius read over the press briefing again, then aggressively rubbed his temples. It'd been a long day - no, a long week. Five formerly accused Death Eaters were now declared innocent, and not due to the rise of new evidence - no, that would have been too simple.

Cornelius threw a baleful glare in the direction of the briefing. All of the accused had had gross neglect of proper legal procedure in their trials, and both Sirius Black and Edwin Travers hadn't had trials at all. It was preposterous! A complete travesty! It was a story that reeked of corruption, bribes, and lies - something Cornelius certainly wouldn't have any experience with - and it could all be dropped at the feet of Barty Crouch and Albus Dumbledore.

Scowling, Cornelius leaned back in his chair. He'd thought he could trust Barty Crouch, but no, that seemed to hardly be the case. Not only had the former head of International Magical Corporation directly enabled the circumvention of the law, but he'd also collaborated extensively with Dumbledore to cart Black and Travers off to Azkaban without a trial.

Dumbledore. Cornelius couldn't feel more betrayed. Despite the man's statements otherwise, Cornelius was thoroughly convinced the man was after his job. Dumbledore could demure all he wanted, but Cornelius knew the truth - the man thirsted for power, and sought it out. Why else would he be the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the Chief Warlock of the House of Commons, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts? It made no sense.

Cornelius sighed. At least he had Lord Gaunt and Lord Malfoy to fall back on. He'd been owling extensively with the pair, and had finally conspired to invite them to meet with him in his office without the presence of his undersecretary. Dolores was excellent, of course, and on top of her job, but Cornelius didn't need a sitter. Besides, the entirety of the meeting would go over poor Dolores' head and be a waste of her time.

A knock sounded on the door, and Cornelius jumped. He took a brief second to compose himself.

"Come in!" Cornelius called cheerily.

Lord Gaunt and Lord Malfoy entered, both wearing impeccably tailored robes.

"Please, take a seat," Cornelius said, gesturing to the armchairs in front of his desk. "Would you care for tea?"

"Certainly, just with lemon."

"And I'll take mine with two sugar cubes and a small dollop of milk."

Cornelius bustled with the tea things for a moment, then settled back in his chair. "I'll cut to the chase, gentlemen," he said, taking a sip of his tea which had a not inconsiderable amount of firewhisky in it. "I am in quite a bind here, with the whole Black and Travers situation. I had no idea - none - that Crouch had endorsed such activities. It's disturbing - very disturbing - to say the least, and now even I am under scrutiny!" Cornelius chuckled nervously. "I was hoping you two gentlemen can give me a spot of advice…"

Lord Gaunt and Lord Malfoy exchanged a glance, and Cornelius prided himself in noticing the subtle gesture.

"If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion," Lord Gaunt began.

Cornelius waved him on.

"You must closely analyze the actors in this situation. Here, we have Lord Crouch, Albus Dumbledore, and those wrongfully convicted as our key figures. While you weren't Minister during the convictions, you came into office shortly after, which casts a shadow of doubt upon you."

Cornelius frowned. He didn't like the sound of this.

"My recommendation is to publically distance yourself from Dumbledore and Lord Crouch. Issue a statement acknowledging your innocence in the matter and express your regrets that such a travesty has come to pass. Officially pardon those wrongfully accused, and suggest that reparations are made unto them. Naturally, these are only some of the avenues open to you, but these are what first come to mind."

Cornelius found himself nodding along. "Excellent points, Lord Gaunt. Thank you."

"Please, call me Thomas."

Internally, Cornelius did a jig. "Only if you will call me Cornelius."

"Of course."

"And you must call me Lucius," Lord Malfoy said gallantly. "After all, if we are to be working closely together, there will no longer be a need for such formalities."

Cornelius could hardly keep himself from grinning. Clearly, it was the beginning of a beautiful new collaboration.

A/N: And so volume three begins...