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HRA# CHAPTER 194
🕑 Added 2025-07-22 06:20:36 +0000 UTCThe case from years ago was riddled with inconsistencies. Even the argument that Death Eaters were mad, irrational, and unpredictable didn’t hold up under scrutiny. For years, no one had raised objections simply because no one cared about someone everyone believed to be a Death Eater.
But now, dragging the matter back into the open for discussion made it clear that, with little effort, one could uncover numerous points that were hard to explain.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Fudge said suddenly, turning with a smile, “I believe we should now summon someone who played a critical role in the trial of Sirius Black all those years ago—Mr. Barty Crouch.”
“Of course,” Dumbledore nodded slightly, “that’s quite necessary… Summon Barty Crouch.”
At Dumbledore’s words, a side door in the first courtroom swung open. Escorted by an Auror, a middle-aged man with neatly combed short gray hair, dressed in a crisp black suit, entered the room. His demeanor was stern, his face set in a rigid expression.
“Barty Crouch!” Fudge called out first. He quickly outlined the inconsistencies uncovered in the prior hearings, then pressed, “It’s clear that, twelve years ago, you overlooked far too many discrepancies in Sirius Black’s case. In fact, I nearly forgot—you didn’t even hold a proper trial before throwing him into Azkaban, leading to such grave consequences.”
Fudge’s eager, almost gleeful mood was so obvious that even the Auror standing by the courtroom door could sense it.
“Now, now, Cornelius,” Dumbledore soothed, “no conclusions have been reached yet.”
“I think it’s clear enough, isn’t it?” a saccharine voice interjected. “Mr. Crouch placed his personal will above the law, ignoring case discrepancies due to his own emotions, resulting in an innocent man being imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years.”
Dumbledore turned toward the source of the voice.
“My apologies. I’m Dolores Umbridge, Senior Assistant to the Minister of Magic. It’s my duty to advise the Minister,” Umbridge said, covering her mouth as if embarrassed by her outburst.
She was clearly advanced in age, her skin sagging with wrinkles, yet she wore a garish pink outfit and spoke in a shrill, high-pitched voice. Harry didn’t like to judge by appearances, but he found it hard to warm to someone like her.
Ragehorn, Harry’s companion, gave a slight shudder of distaste.
“Oh, don’t interrupt, Dolores,” Fudge said, feigning a reprimand. But his pleased expression and familiar tone made it clear he agreed with everything Umbridge had said. It was exactly what he wanted to say.
Placing personal will above the law, dereliction of duty, wrongfully imprisoning an innocent person—these were grave accusations for someone in government service.
What made Crouch’s supporters grimace was that Umbridge’s words weren’t entirely false.
“I understand the weight of your responsibilities, madam,” Dumbledore said with a calm smile, unruffled. “But before we proceed, we should hear Mr. Crouch’s response. Do you agree with Ms. Umbridge’s characterization, Crouch?”
All eyes turned to the man standing ramrod straight in the center of the courtroom.
“In the case of Sirius Black…” Crouch glanced at Sirius, bound to a chair nearby, before stating firmly, “I admit I did not follow standard procedures in his trial.”
His words sent a ripple of murmurs through the gallery, but Crouch’s next statement, delivered loudly, drowned out the noise.
“But have you forgotten how dire things were back then? The Dark Lord’s sudden fall forced us to stretch our already limited resources to capture Death Eaters. Few of them admitted their allegiance upon capture. They’d claim they were under the Imperius Curse or had been coerced.”
“Some might ask why we didn’t use Veritaserum for interrogations. Let me clarify: its use is strictly regulated by the Ministry, even during wartime, requiring senior official approval. More importantly, it’s not foolproof.”
“First, Veritaserum is ineffective against those trained in Occlumency, like the Dark Lord or his inner circle—people like Bellatrix Lestrange. This made it impossible to verify the truth from key Death Eaters.”
“Second, sheer willpower can resist Veritaserum’s effects.”
Showing no trace of fear, Barty Crouch paced the courtroom with confidence, not as a defendant but as someone in control. He stopped in front of Sirius, bent down, and looked into his eyes. “A man who survived twelve years in the depths of Azkaban, surrounded by Dementors, without losing his mind—I have no doubt about your willpower, Sirius.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” Sirius said, flashing a wide, toothy grin. “But you could’ve used more examples. Like your son, for instance—Barty Crouch Jr. He was one of Voldemort’s most fanatical Death Eaters, wasn’t he? I heard he even called him ‘Father.’”
Crouch’s breath hitched. Harry noticed the older man’s fist clench tightly before relaxing. He straightened, avoiding Sirius’s gaze and offering no response.
“In short,” Crouch continued, addressing the jury in the stands with an impassive expression, “during that time, we often had to rely on tangible evidence to imprison someone, bypassing legal procedures. I urge you to recall the hardships of the war. Back then, any means were permissible if they defeated Death Eaters and ensured they faced justice.”
“Aurors were authorized to use the Unforgivable Curses. As long as evidence was solid, no matter how Death Eaters defended themselves, they were sent to Azkaban. Only that ensured they paid for their crimes. Even so, many Death Eaters escaped justice.”
“You’re dodging the issue, Mr. Crouch,” Harry said calmly in the quiet courtroom. “Sirius had no prior criminal record. During the war, he fought on the front lines against Voldemort. Your so-called ‘solid evidence’ was full of holes, yet you chose to ignore them.”
Harry remained unshaken by Crouch’s words.
Crouch spun around, his sharp gaze locking onto Harry’s. Harry met it without flinching.
“Problem?” Harry asked.
Silence hung for several seconds.
“…No,” Crouch said, his tone still stern. “At the time, I believed the evidence was conclusive. Peter was reduced to a single finger, and Sirius didn’t deny killing him or offer any defense. So I sent him to Azkaban.”
What Crouch described was the norm during the war, as Mr. Weasley had once quietly explained to Harry. Crouch had been ruthless in those days.
“I made a mistake, a misjudgment,” Crouch admitted, though his words carried no hint of weakness. “But I don’t regret it. At the time, it was the only way to ensure those guilty of crimes and murders didn’t escape justice and paid for their actions.”
His words stirred louder murmurs in the gallery.
Deep down, even Crouch knew he was doomed today. Or perhaps he agreed that Sirius was, in fact, innocent—who could deny evidence provided by the dead themselves?
Yet he still didn’t regret his actions.
He believed they were necessary, and Sirius… well, Sirius had just been unlucky.
“It seems the case is clear,” Fudge said, unable to contain himself. “Even Crouch admits it—I mean, I acknowledge that special measures were necessary during that time, but clearly, Sirius’s case was entirely different from those of the Death Eaters. He hadn’t done anything wrong before the incident, had he?”
“If he hadn’t done anything wrong, then such a mishap demanded careful handling. Clearly, Crouch failed to do so. He didn’t even consider the obvious discrepancies or seek further evidence.”
“That contradicts his claim of ‘conclusive evidence,’ doesn’t it?”
Crouch fell silent, but Fudge grew more animated with each word.
“Regardless, to uphold fairness and justice in the wizarding world, and to quell the outrage of the wizarding public, Crouch must face consequences for his actions. That’s something the Wizengamot will need to carefully consider.”
“Hold on, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, still unruffled. “Since this is a retrial, we must follow proper procedure.”
“Fine, you’re right, Dumbledore,” Fudge said with an easy smile. “Let’s continue.”
“I know what you’re all waiting for,” Dumbledore said, addressing the room. “James Potter’s soul, testifying personally to the hidden truths behind common knowledge. Honestly, even setting aside a dead man’s testimony, I believe the current evidence—based solely on Sirius’s actions and behavior back then—is too thin to prove his innocence. His own claims can’t fully serve as evidence.”
“Here, I believe it’s necessary to call a witness. Please bring in Rubeus Hagrid.”
“Hagrid?” Harry looked toward the courtroom door in surprise, not expecting Hagrid to be involved in this case.
The courtroom’s atmosphere was daunting for Hagrid. Despite his towering frame, far larger than anyone else’s, he seemed to shrink under the weight of the moment, nervously meeting the gazes fixed on him. Only when he stood beside Harry did he seem to relax slightly.
“Don’t worry, Hagrid,” Harry said, patting his friend’s arm. “No one here can hurt you.”
“Thanks, Harry,” Hagrid whispered. “I mean—er, well, long time no see, Sirius?”
He gave Sirius, still bound to the chair, a complicated look.
“Long time no see, Hagrid,” Sirius replied, unable to raise his arms but blinking in greeting. “How’s my motorbike? Still a good ride?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Hagrid said, breaking into a grin. “It’s fantastic.”
“Couldn’t ask for more.”
“Rubeus Hagrid,” Dumbledore’s voice cut through their tense reunion, his tone serious. “Twelve years ago, on the night the Dark Lord vanished, you saw Sirius Black, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Professor Dumbledore,” Hagrid said, nervously clutching his coat. “He rode up on his motorbike, handed Harry to me, and—er—he told me the Dark Lord had killed James and Lily. Harry was the only one left alive in the house.”
“He didn’t harm you? Or Harry?”
“No,” Hagrid shook his head vigorously. “Honestly, if you lot hadn’t said Sirius betrayed the Potters, I wouldn’t have believed it. I remember it clear as day—Sirius gave Harry to me, said, ‘Get him to Dumbledore,’ and left. His face was awful, like he was in a bad way.”
“Truth be told, all these years I wished I’d punched that traitor then and there—er, I mean, I know now he’s not a traitor, but back then I didn’t. Sorry, Sirius,” Hagrid stammered, his thoughts tumbling out.
“No need to apologize, Hagrid,” Sirius said, grinning. “We’re still friends, right?”
“Of course, of course!” Hagrid replied.
“You can catch up after the trial; there’ll be plenty of time,” Dumbledore said with a touch of humor. “So, Sirius, do you confirm everything Hagrid has said?”
“I do,” Sirius said, his voice hoarse as painful memories surfaced. “I thought Peter would go to Voldemort’s remnants… I had to kill him.”
“Then we can piece together the timeline,” Dumbledore said loudly. “Voldemort killed the Potters and was then destroyed by his own rebounded Killing Curse. Sirius, upon hearing the news, went to the Potter house, found Harry, and entrusted him to someone reliable. Then he set out to find Peter Pettigrew. In the end, Peter’s attempt at a mutual-destruction spell killed only himself, and Sirius, seeking redemption, offered no resistance when he was sent to Azkaban.”
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
