"Cornelius," Dumbledore began, his tone as steady as if discussing a Quidditch match result, "it seems we have witnessed a history twisted for twelve years. Now, it is time to set things right."
Fudge's lips trembled uncontrollably. He glanced at Peter, trussed up like a roast on the floor, then at the grim-faced Sirius, finally casting a pleading look toward Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore... this is the biggest scandal in the history of the Ministry of Magic..." His voice shook, sweat beading on his fat cheeks, "I am finished..."
"No." Dumbledore shook his head, his blue eyes behind his spectacles flashing with a light only politicians could read, "On the contrary, Mr. Minister. This will be the most glorious achievement of your tenure."
Fudge was stunned, unable to follow his train of thought.
Dumbledore built the ladder for him: "You, Minister Cornelius Fudge, received the alert and came to the front line, withstood the pressure, and rendered a fair judgment. Under your supervision, the Death Eater Peter, who had been on the run for twelve years, was captured, and the injustice against the war hero Sirius Black was redressed. You corrected the mistakes of your predecessor and demonstrated the Ministry of Magic's resolve to the world. Think of the front-page headlines in The Daily Prophet."
Fudge's breathing grew rapid, and the flame named 'power' reignited in his eyes.
That's right! A scandal could become a political triumph!
"As for those twelve Muggles..." Dumbledore's voice was soft, "The real culprit is brought to justice; that is the best solace for them."
"I... I understand!" Fudge grasped the lifeline; bureaucratic instinct overpowered panic. He cleared his throat, forcefully straightened his back, though his face remained as pale as paper.
He turned to Sirius and announced in a stiff, official tone, "Sirius Black, in light of new evidence, the Ministry of Magic... I, hereby formally withdraw all charges against you. You are free."
"Free..."
Sirius chewed on the word; twelve years of coldness and despair were shattered by those two syllables. He took a sharp breath of the murky air in the small room, yet it felt sweeter than ever before.
He turned.
Toward Harry.
The infant from his memories now stood taller than his shoulders.
"Harry..." Sirius's voice was rough, as if sandpaper had scraped his throat, yet carried a trembling warmth, "I... I have a place, the old Black manor... If you want, you don't have to go back to your aunt's house."
Harry's green eyes instantly flooded with tears; sheer ecstasy and disbelief threatened to drown him.
A home.
A real home.
"I want to!" he shouted.
Sirius awkwardly hugged his long-lost Godson, his hands, weathered by twelve years in Azkaban, clumsily patted Harry's back.
Ron watched from the side, his stomach churning. He was happy for Harry, yet felt utterly sickened that he had slept alongside his father's killer for so many years.
Chaos subsided, and justice was restored.
Sirius calmed Harry down and straightened up. He glanced at his own tattered prison garb, then did something that surprised everyone.
He walked up to Hermione. He neither bowed nor offered pleasantries. He just stared at her for a long time, then said in that gravelly voice, "Granger. You are smart, and you have guts. Consider me in your debt."
Hermione felt a prickle of unease under his gaze and instinctively hugged Lia tighter in her arms.
Sirius's gaze followed hers to the white cat in her arms. The cat lazily yawned, looking completely unconcerned.
"And you, little monster." Sirius tugged at the corner of his mouth, a smile uglier than a cry, yet carrying the authenticity of survival, "Thanks for catching that stinking Rat for me."
He extended a dirty hand, hesitating mid-air.
Lia lifted her eyelids, swept him with her pure blue eyes, and let out an approving purr. She actively rubbed her fluffy head against Sirius's hand.
Sirius froze, then broke into a grin—a fractured, genuine smile that bloomed on his scarred face for the first time in twelve years.
Soon, Aurors arrived, taking away the ashen-faced Peter and the unconscious Lupin. Fudge fled the scene in haste with his contingent.
The news spread through Hogwarts like wildfire.
Harry Potter had a godfather!
Sirius Black was innocent!
The traitor was Ron's Rat!
The Gryffindor Common Room erupted; Harry was mobbed at the center, wearing a smile unlike any seen before.
Hermione quietly slipped away from the revelers.
She closed the door leading to the girls' dormitory, shutting out all the noise from outside.
The world instantly quieted.
She sank onto her soft four-poster bed, letting out a long breath, feeling as if every bone in her body was about to fall apart.
The white cat in her arms leaped lightly, tracing a graceful arc in the air. Amidst the play of light and shadow, a small, barefoot silver-haired Cat-girl landed steadily on the carpet.
"Hermione," Lia called out softly, immediately scrambling onto the bed, skillfully burrowing into her embrace. Her small head nuzzled affectionately around Hermione's neck, and her fluffy long tail wrapped around her waist.
The warm, soft body, carrying a pleasant scent of milk and sunshine, instantly soothed Hermione's nerves, which had been tense all night.
She tightened her arms, encircling Lia completely, burying her face in the Cat-girl's soft, smooth silver hair and inhaling deeply.
"My heavens, Lia, you nearly scared me to death." Hermione's voice was tight, laced with the exhaustion and lingering fear of survival, "You actually used your claws to pin him to the ground. If he had fought back, if he had any other Dark Arts on him..."
"He tried to run," Lia's voice muffled from her arms, carrying a hint of confusion and matter-of-factness, "You didn't say he could leave."
This sentence struck Hermione's heart hard.
That was right; in Lia's world, the rules were terrifyingly simple. Her permission was the highest directive. Her safety was the sole principle.
She held the Cat-girl tighter, an ineffable sense of satisfaction and intense possessiveness instantly filling her limbs.
"Don't be so reckless next time!" She put on a stern face and spoke in a lecturing tone, but her arms holding Lia did not loosen in the slightest.
Lia lifted her head from her embrace, looking earnestly at her with sky-blue eyes, and nodded obediently.
Then, she leaned in and lightly touched Hermione's cheek with her soft lips.
"Hermione isn't mad."
Hermione felt her cheeks instantly flush, all the prepared scolding stuck in her throat.
She could only pull the unintentionally seductive creature back into her arms more forcefully, preventing her from seeing her expression.
Hermione would settle this score!
When Parvati and Lavender weren't in the dormitory someday...
She would severely do this to Lia, and then that!
[I'm dying! Took a day off to sleep in my room but I'm still dizzy and throwing up everything (╥╯﹏╰╥)ง]
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