Author's Note: Harry vs. the Wizengamot! Dun dun dun…

Thanks, Worthfull1

P.S. I own nothing, anything recognizable belongs to the lovely Ms. Rowling.

Chapter 3: Laws Of Blood And Magic (or, A Proper Family)

August 1995

Wizengamot Chambers, Ministry of Magic, London

"The Wizengamot hereby finds Mr. Harry James Potter not guilty," Fudge said sourly, clearly displeased with the result. "Mr. Potter, you are free to go."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone had been swearing up and down that he had nothing to worry about, that he was sure to get off, but if felt good to actually hear it. Unfortunately, while the Wizengamot was done with him, he was not done with the Wizengamot.

"Actually, Minister," Harry began, making the entire chamber pause. Dumbledore halted in his beeline for the door, and Fudge looked comical with his gavel held in mid-air as he stared at Harry. "I have other business with the Wizengamot."

Hermione had written a script for him, and he'd been up almost all night trying to drill it into his head. Harry was nervous as hell, but he refused to show it as the members grumbled impatiently.

"You have business with the Wizengamot," Fudge repeated slowly, as though he thought he'd misheard.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied firmly, irritated that this would surprise Fudge, seeing as the reason they were all there was because the Wizengamot had business with him.

Fudge stared at him a moment longer. "What's the meaning of this, Dumbledore?" he snapped, turning his attention to the elderly wizard.

The headmaster seemed to have gotten over his initial shock and had moved back to the center of the chamber to stand behind Harry as he'd done during the trial. "I've no idea, Minister," he replied pleasantly. "But, since we're all here, perhaps we should find out?"

"Now see here, Dumbledore," Fudge started, "I have better things to do - "

"Really, Cornelius, it can't hurt to hear what the boy has to say," Madam Bones cut in. "In fact, it would make a nice change, seeing as you've been interrupting him since he walked in. And, as for you having better things to do, well so do we, yet we were summoned here at the last minute to listen to a case of underage magic, of all things, something that could and should have been dealt with in the lesser courts." She looked at Harry. "How may we be of service to you, Mr. Potter?" she asked while Fudge spluttered.

Harry rushed to pull out the parchments he'd stashed in the inner pocket of his jacket. They'd been drawn up by a solicitor Tonks had smuggled him out of the house to meet with. "Thank you very much, Madam Bones," he said, trying to be as polite as possible to his only friend in the room. "First of all - " he pulled out a scroll, " - I'd like to petition that the rest of this hearing be kept confidential unless I choose to divulge the proceedings. Here - here's my petition…" He held it uncertainly, not sure if he should walk the parchment up to Fudge of if Percy would come get it from him.

For a long moment that seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. Then Madam Bones sighed, pointedly looking at Fudge, and flicked her wand. The scroll flew out of Harry's hand and soared over to Percy, repeatedly hitting him in the head as he looked at Fudge for instruction. Fudge finally nodded, and Percy unrolled the scroll and entered it into the hearing's minutes. A blue glow emanated from the wand of everyone present as the oath of confidentiality took hold.

"Next, Mr. Potter?" Bones prompted sweetly.

Harry resisted the urge to smile at her. "Next, I have a petition for an official change - " he said, reverting back to Hermione's script.

"Now, wait just one minute, young man," a rather rotund wizard sitting in the second tier broke in. "Just how much business do you have with us today? I have an early lunch appointment, you see."

A loud scoffing was heard from across the room. "Really, Ogden, contrary to popular belief, the world does not revolve around your feeding schedule." The witch who'd spoken was elderly, but Harry got the feeling she didn't let that stop her.

"Griselda, we were supposed to have today off. I made plans with - "

"Lord Ogden, Madam Marchbanks," Dumbledore interrupted. "While I have no doubt that you all have been inconvenienced by being summoned here today, as a member of Wizarding Britain, Harry has the right to be heard, no matter how long it takes to conclude his… business. I'm sure he will be as quick and to the point as possible."

Harry looked at Madam Bones, who gave him a wink and a nod. He held up the second scroll. "This is a petition for an official change to my records to include my father's name." He could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him as he waited for the shoe to drop. Even Madam Bones looked confused.

"Mr. Potter," she began, "Your father's name is already on your records. That happened when you were born. It's protocol."

Harry took a breath. "I don't mean my legal father, I mean my biological father," he said.

The silence was deafening. Even Percy's quill had stopped.

"Perhaps… perhaps you should elaborate, Mr. Potter."

Harry extracted a third scroll. "Well, you see, I've recently found out that even though my mother, Lily Potter, was married to James Potter at the time she got pregnant, she… I am not James Potter's son."

The gasps were even more deafening. The Wizengamot was suddenly filled with hisses and growls of 'That little trollop!', and 'You can't trust muggle-borns - I've said so all along!', and the like. Harry's temper rose, but before he could explode, Dumbledore broke in again.

"Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot," he said seriously, "if what Harry says is true, then Lily Potter's sins were committed over fifteen years ago, and I would think that her subsequent sacrifice would have absolved her." This quieted most of them.

"Well," Madam Marchbanks said, "I can understand the need for confidentiality now, Potter."

Harry blinked. "Er - yes, ma'am."

"I assume you have proof of this, boy?" Lord Ogden asked.

Harry nodded and held up the third scroll. "This is the report from a Healer at St. Mungo's who performed the paternity charm on me." The parchment zoomed out of his hand before he'd even finished speaking.

Fudge caught the scroll and unrolled it, nearly tearing it in his haste. His eyes bugged as he read the name. "Regulus Black?!"

The room erupted again.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked quietly, but Harry refused to acknowledge him. The old man had refused to look at Harry even once during his earlier trial despite Harry's best efforts, so Harry refused to look at him.

"This… this can't be true!" Fudge insisted, his face turning a shade of purple that made Harry think of Vernon Dursley. "Mr. Potter, Regulus Black was a known Death Eater!"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Minister, but I have evidence that his relationship with my mother began when they were both still in school."

"What evidence?" someone asked. Harry didn't know who.

"I have letters," Harry said. Fudge held out his hand. "Well, I don't have them with me, sir."

"Why in the blazes not?!"

Harry frowned. "They're… private, sir."

"Cornelius," Madam Bones interrupted as the Minister opened his mouth again, "he may be the Boy-Who-Lived, but he is not required to air all of his family's dirty laundry in front of us." She summoned the parchment. "I know this Healer. He's as professional as they come. The results are valid, the records will be changed to reflect them," she declared, sending the scroll to Percy, whose quill was now moving so fast, Harry was worried it might burst into flame.

"Mr. Potter - or, perhaps I should call you Mr. Black?" Fudge began irritably.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir, I'm happy to remain a Potter for now."

"Very well. Mr. Potter, is there anything else we can do for you today?"

Harry pulled out a fourth and final scroll, and Fudge audibly groaned. "Yes, Minister, there is one more thing." This scroll was much thicker than the previous ones, being several pages long, and it was the one that made Harry most nervous. "Here is a petition for an official inquiry into the arrest and incarceration of my uncle and godfather, Sirius Black."

"Harry, I think that's enough," Dumbledore said over the grumbles and protests that once again filled that chamber.

"No, it's really not, sir," Harry replied, again not looking at him.

"Harry, this is very dangerous and delicate territory - "

"More dangerous than dementors or graveyards?"

Fudge quieted the Wizengamot and looked at Harry. "Mr. Potter, is this about what allegedly happened in your third year?"

The condescending tone made the hairs on Harry's neck stand up. "No, Minister, this is about a possible miscarriage of justice," he answered, his tone not quite as polite as it might have been. Fudge narrowed his eyes.

"In what way, Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones asked. "As I understand it, there were several witnesses to Mr. Black's crimes and, what with his family being what they were, it wasn't such a far leap to think that he'd followed them into the Dark. We are talking about the man who handed your family over to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Actually, we're not, Madam Bones," Harry said, trying to stick to Hermione's script. "We're talking about the man who was the first Black to be sorted anywhere other than Slytherin, who was James Potter's best friend all during their school years, and who was accused and incarcerated for the crimes you mentioned, but never actually tried. He was sent to Azkaban on the word of Mister Crouch, but he was never tried and never given the chance to defend himself. There is no record of any actual evidence against him, and no record of his having a Dark Mark."

"Is this true, Cornelius?" she asked.

Fudge spluttered. "I don't know! I - I'd have to look at the records! I can't recall every single case I've witnessed! I'm not sure I was even there!"

"Well, I was there," Madam Marchbanks interjected, "and I remember you being there, Cornelius." She looked at Harry. "I'm not saying I believe you, Potter, but I do remember that no Dark Mark was shown, and there was no actual trial. We all assumed that Crouch had knowledge of the crime that we didn't."

"And I remember saying at the time that that was no way to hold court," Dumbledore said.

Fudge glared at the headmaster. "You were Chief Warlock at the time, Dumbledore, why didn't you make a stink then?"

"Because, Minister, Mr. Crouch informed me that Black had confessed," Dumbledore said.

"Well, there you are!" Fudge said, looking at Harry. "No trial is needed if there is a confession, Mr. Potter."

"You are correct, Cornelius," Dumbledore broke in again, "but recent events have led me to question if Mr. Crouch was telling the truth about the confession."

"What events?" Madam Bones asked. "Do you know where Black is, Headmaster?"

"I'm afraid I cannot speak to Sirius Black's whereabouts, Madam," Dumbledore said, sounding appropriately apologetic, though Harry knew Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper for Grimmauld's Fidelius Charm. "Although, I understand the Auror Department does still have a man or two working on that. However, a confession is a terribly easy thing to find. If Mr. Black's confession does indeed exist, it will be in the records office at the DMLE which is, conveniently, right down the corridor from this chamber."

"Hem, hem."

Harry didn't know who this Umbridge woman was, but did know that he did not like her. She reminded him of Trevor, Neville's toad, only if Neville had lost his mind and decided to dress Trevor up in pink frills. She was short and squat and her smile oozed insincerity and danger.

"I'm sorry, headmaster," she said, her voice high and girly, "but are you suggesting that we stop what we're doing and request that the DMLE deliver us with a fifteen year old confession?"

"Why yes, Dolores, I believe that is exactly what I am suggesting."

"And why, headmaster, would we do such a thing? Simply to satisfy a teenage boy?"

"Harry's satisfaction has very little to do with it, Dolores," Dumbledore replied. "However, I do not believe such a document exists, and I know you, of all people, would not wish to waste an opportunity to prove me wrong."

He spoke in the same falsely polite tone Umbridge used and Harry had to force himself not to laugh. By the look on Fudge's face, though, Umbridge wasn't the only one eager to make a fool of the headmaster.

"Wesley!" he barked, and Harry cringed at the way Percy leapt to attention despite Fudge not caring enough to actually learn his name. "You will take this to the DMLE," he said, waving his wand at a piece of parchment that hovered in front of him. Harry could see words forming on it. "You will wait there for the confession, and you will bring it immediately back to me. You will also impress upon them the need for speed."

"Yes, sir!" The parchment zoomed into Percy's outstretched hand and he took off at a run.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. He'd lost control of the proceedings and there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd just screwed Sirius out of a bid for freedom. He'd only meant to start an investigation and prove that there was no evidence against Sirius, but he hadn't thought about a confession. Sirius had told him that he'd been half-mad when they arrested him - perhaps he had confessed in a fit of misplaced guilt.

Harry surreptitiously wiped his sweating palms on his trousers. It was getting unbearable. He could feel the eyes on him and it made him want to crawl into a hole and die. Ha hated being in the spotlight. The waiting seemed to go on forever until finally, finally, the door opened and Percy came walking back in, looking sheepish.

"Well," Fudge pressed.

"I - I'm very sorry, Minister," Percy stuttered, "but the confession can't be found, sir. They searched twice for it. What's more, there is no record of a confession ever being made, to Mr. Crouch or anyone else."

"Nonsense!" Fudge barked.

"Mr. Weasley, would you be so kind as to fetch Auror Scrimgeour?" Madam Bones asked. Percy nodded and left again. "Do not worry, Mr. Potter," she said, "when he enters this chamber, Auror Scrimgeour will be placed under the same confidentiality oath as the rest of us."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Madam Bones."

"How is this possible?" Fudge demanded, turning to Bones. "You're the Head over there - don't you know how to file documents?!"

Bones met Fudge's glare steadily until he began to squirm. "I believe we have already established that Sirius Black's confession, if one does exist, happened during Barty Crouch's time. If there is an error in paperwork, I suggest you take it up with him."

"Don't be ridiculous! Crouch is dead!"

Madam Bones gave a little shrug. Fudge huffed and turned back to stare at the door, tapping his wand on his podium until it shot sparks and made him jump. A few of the members could not contain their chuckles at the Minister's expense.

After a few more minutes of tense waiting, Percy returned, followed by a man who reminded Harry of Mad-Eye Moody, only not as terrifying. He had a grizzled, tough look about him and, like Moody, walked with a limp, although Harry didn't think he had a wooden leg.

"Minister, Madam Bones," Scrimgeour greeted.

"Thank you for coming, Auror Scrimgeour," Madam Bones replied. "Before I tell you what this is about, would you mind presenting your wand?" Scrimgeour held it out and it glowed blue as Bones performed the confidentiality charm on it. "Now, in the course of our hearing today, we have requested Sirius Black's confession be brought to us for scrutiny. Unfortunately, it seems that the confession cannot be located. I would like you to go to the records office and do a thorough search, and bring your findings back to us."

"Yes, ma'am," Scrimgeour gave a small bow, walked back out, and the waiting began again.

12 Grimmauld Place

"How about I leave you to recount the day's events?" Dumbledore asked as he delivered Harry to the front step of Grimmauld Place. "Is that acceptable to you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "Sir?" Dumbledore stopped. He still hadn't looked at Harry all day. "Thank you, sir." Harry saw his beard twitch in a smile.

"You're welcome, Harry," he replied and, with a sharp twist, disapparated.

Harry let himself into the house, tip-toeing past Mrs. Black's portrait. He heard voices coming from the kitchen, so he headed that way, stopping in the doorway. It took a moment for him to be noticed, but when he was, the room went quiet. He only had eyes for one of the occupants, however, and he strode purposefully towards Sirius.

The animagus stood and opened his arms, and Harry flew into them. "Hey, pup," Sirius said, "you okay? What happened? You were gone a long time."

Finally Harry pulled back. "Sirius, I - you - "

"What, Harry? Tell me."

Harry took a deep breath. "Sirius, you're free," he said.

Sirius blinked. "What? Of course I'm not, don't be ridiculous."

Harry nodded. "You are. I promise. Look - " he pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Sirius. "This is your acquittal. Signed by the whole Wizengamot. Even Minister Fudge."

"What?" Remus asked. "Harry, you went for your trial, not Sirius'."

"I know, I know," Harry said, getting excited as he turned to Remus. "I was acquitted, by the way. But after the trial, I presented those petitions, like we'd planned, and… well, it went a bit further than I expected. Dumbledore helped."

"Professor Dumbledore was there?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "He… sort of talked them into a corner, and then he suggested we be allowed to see this so-called confession Sirius made about handing the Potters to Voldemort - "

"I never made a confession!" Sirius interjected hotly.

"I know! " Harry said. "And there isn't one, and that's how you got off!"

Remus shook his head. "Wait, hold on… Harry, perhaps you should start from the beginning? You're not making sense."

"Right." Harry sat down. "Okay, so we had my trial. It was before the Wizengamot - "

"The whole Wizengamot?"

"Yeah. Apparently, that's not normally done, but it was today. Anyway, afterwards, before Fudge could kick me out, I started with the petitions - you know, changing my records, telling them about my real father - but then when I got to Sirius, they started arguing with me and Dumbledore sort of took over. There was this toad woman in a pink, frilly coat - "

"Madam Umbridge?" Remus asked darkly.

Harry nodded. "That's her. Well, she got a bit pissy, but Fudge sent Percy to get Sirius' confession and Percy said they couldn't find it, and they couldn't find any record of it. So Madam Bones got this Auror - Scrimgeour, I think - to search the records office, and he couldn't find it, either."

"And if there's no confession, then the conviction isn't valid," Remus said, beginning to see where Harry was going.

"Exactly! You don't have to have a trial if there's a confession, but since there was no confession, then Crouch's sentence was invalid because there was no trial," Harry said.

"And if the sentence was invalid, then he shouldn't have been sent to Azkaban at all, so he didn't commit a crime by breaking out?" Hermione reasoned.

"Right!" Harry almost shouted. "And they evaluated his wand, and since there were no Dark spells there and he clearly had not blown up the street or thrown any Killing Curses, Madam Bones said that no prosecutor would ever charge him for the murder of the muggles because there wasn't enough evidence! And the also found the casting of the Fidelius Charm, and since you can't cast it on yourself, they said that someone else must have been the Secret Keeper - "

"So he couldn't have betrayed James and Lily," Remus finished.

Everyone looked at Sirius. He'd sat down and was staring at the parchment in his hands. "I'm - I'm really free?"

Harry nodded, smiling ear to ear. "Yeah, you're really free. Oh!" He fished in his pockets. "Here's your stuff," he said, dropping several shrunken boxes on the table. "They said that since you're free, they can't legally hold onto it anymore."

Sirius pulled out his current wand - an extra Dumbledore had given him but one he'd never really warmed to - and enlarged the boxes back to their original size. Clothing, books, and various other possessions spilled out, but Sirius only had eyes for the thin piece of carved wood sitting on top of the first one. He wrapped his fingers reverently around it, feeling the same thrill he had when he'd first picked it out, and it pleased him to know he hadn't changed enough to lose the wand's allegiance.

"Harry," he said quietly, "How can I ever thank you?"

Harry scoffed. "After all you've been through for me? I think we're even."

Sirius reached out and grasped Harry's shoulder, blinking away tears.

"Harry, dear," Molly broke in, "what do you mean, your 'real father'?"

Harry paused. He'd forgotten that Hermione and Ron were the only people he'd told about that. Thankfully, Remus stepped in.

"I'll explain it all, Molly, with Harry's permission…?" He looked at Harry and Harry nodded. "Sirius, why don't you take this junk of yours upstairs, and you and Harry can go through it together? I'll bring up some food in a bit."

"An excellent idea, Moony," Sirius said, sending the boxes of his belongings up the stairs and wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders. "See, pup? I told you we'd be a proper family one day."

The End