Junior Hallows

Chapter 4

Sirius Black stared blankly at the people standing outside his cell, Aurors that until just two nights ago, he’d considered colleagues. His eyes were blank, dull, almost lifeless.

His friend, the man who had once been almost as close as his own brother, was dead. The woman that he saw as a sister, was dead, too, and he had no idea if their son was alive or not, but… the godparent bond was silent. After the initial flare of panic, the bond had fallen to nothing… nothing at all, this scared him more than anything.

Sirius had apparated from the outer Glasgow region to Godric’s Hollow, only to be met by the sight of the lopsided cottage, with a great chunk of roof blown out, and a smirking Peter Pettigrew. The sandy-haired little man looked at the missing roof and the smirk had grown. Sirius had spent the next four hours chasing him down and now it was all for nothing. The rat was dead and Sirius was being blamed for his murder.

The holding cell, where he sat waiting, opened and three Aurors stood in it’s place.

“On yer feet, Black.” Alastor Moody growled.

Sirius stood slowly, his mind still fogged by the potions forced into his mouth, earlier.

“This way.”

Sirius followed Moody, taking no notice of the two Aurors walking just behind him. He was lead from the holding area, through the bowels of the Ministry, if he could have thought clearly, he would have expected to end up in the Court Rooms, not the central Atrium. Moody pushed him down onto a seat placed in front of a green-tiled wall on the opposite side of the Atrium from the floo-fireplaces, two Aurors standing one on each side of him.

The fog in his mind stayed and allowed no relief at the sight of Dumbledore crossing the Atrium. Behind him, Sirius saw a gaggle of people… reporters, Ministry Staff and people from the general Wizarding public.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Dumbledore’s strident voice cut through the babbling of the mass of people.

“Sirius Black will be questioned while under the influence of Veritaserum. He-” an unknown voice started.

“Veritaserum is not permitted in the Courts of the Wizengamot.” Dumbledore stated.

“He will not be tried by the Wizengamot.”

The volume in the Atrium had begun to rise, only to cut off as the fully-robed Master of the Unnamed, made his way from the floo area, flanked by three lieutenants and two ensigns. All six shared the one face, the face of the Unnamed. As he got closer, a hum of conversation rose in his wake.

“He will be tried by the Unnamed.” As the Master reached Black he studied the man and quickly realised that he was already under the influence of some potion. With a gesture to the ensigns, the Master stepped back, one ensign came forward and with steady clear motions, locked suppression-cuffs around Black’s wrists.

“Potions Master Everett Lincoln, step forward.” The Master’s voice filled the Atrium with no need for a sonorous charm. “Auror Clivington Jones, step forward.”

A lanky man in dark blue work robes pushed through the crowd.

“I’m Clive Jones.” He stated.

“Jones, you are known to be a staunch opponent of the Dark Lord.” While it was a statement, the Master made it sound like a question.

“I am.” Jones agreed with the statement.

“Do you know Potions Master Lincoln?”

“Yes.”

“Identify him and state his position.”

“He is Potions Master to the Wizengamot and the Head Potions Master for the Ministry.” He pointed to a short man wearing dark grey robes with a Master’s gold braiding clearly visible around the neckline of the robes.