The ancient stone chamber of the Wizengamot had not been this full in years.
The high, arched ceiling glowed faintly with magic, casting pale blue light over rows of elevated benches filled with witches and wizards in official plum-colored robes. Murmurs buzzed through the crowd like restless wind, speculation thick in the air.
At the head of the courtroom, Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, stood poised behind the central podium. His long silver beard shimmered in the enchanted light, his expression unreadable.
Directly across from him, in a row reserved for official witnesses, sat a quiet man in formal robes—a man many of them had not seen in over a decade. Some barely dared to glance at him, others whispered in hushed voices, wondering if it was really him.
Because everyone knew the name James Potter had returned.
They had heard the rumors—leaks, perhaps, whispers passed through fireplaces and Howlers—but few had believed it until now. And when Dumbledore finally raised his hand and began to speak, the court fell into a tense silence.
"This emergency session of the Wizengamot is now in order," he began, voice calm but firm. "We are gathered to hear the truth behind a matter long buried. This morning, we detained Sirius Black, a man believed to have betrayed the Potters and murdered Peter Pettigrew. Simultaneously, we invited James Potter, presumed absent from the Wizarding World by many, to this hearing. And, most importantly, we discovered that Peter Pettigrew is very much alive."
A wave of gasps swept across the benches.
"He was found hiding in Animagus form within the Weasley household, disguised as a pet rat. This morning, Sirius Black confirmed that he escaped Azkaban not for vengeance, not to harm Harry Potter, but to kill Peter Pettigrew—who he claims was the true betrayer of James and Lily Potter."
The murmurs returned, louder this time.
Seated a few rows up, Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes, lips drawn into a frown. Several pure-blooded members of the court shifted uncomfortably. The world they had known, the story they had told themselves for thirteen years, was unraveling thread by thread.
Minister Cornelius Fudge stood, looking flushed and irritable.
"Albus," he said sharply, "you make strong claims, but all we've heard so far is secondhand confession. Even if Pettigrew is alive, how can we rely on the word of Sirius Black, a convicted murderer?"
Dumbledore didn't blink. "Because this morning, Mr. Black was questioned under Veritaserum—in the presence of multiple witnesses, professors, and legal observers. And more importantly, Peter Pettigrew himself confirmed the betrayal."
"Under duress, no doubt," Fudge snapped. "And let's speak plainly, Dumbledore—if James Potter is truly here, if he has been here all this time… then I ask this: why didn't he defend Sirius Black at the time? Why didn't he say anything thirteen years ago?"
A pause.
Dumbledore's eyes turned to the court, voice grave. "Because James Potter spent the immediate aftermath of the attack in St. Mungo's Hospital, in a magically induced coma. He suffered devastating emotional and magical trauma. His grief and psychological state left him unfit to testify or even function as a witness at the time."
Fudge raised an eyebrow, seizing on the moment. "That may be, but since his recovery, he has not once reentered public life. He did not attend Ministry inquiries, nor did he represent the Potter family in the Wizengamot. He has been absent, and I must ask—how can we trust a man who abandoned our world for thirteen years?"
An uncomfortable silence followed.
Heads turned slowly—discreetly—toward the shadowed man seated in the lower section of the court.
James Potter.
Though many hadn't recognized him at first, now the whispers grew louder. A few stood to catch a better glimpse. Some gasped. Others stared in disbelief.
James lifted his chin slightly, acknowledging the glances without saying a word. The silence of his presence said enough.
Dumbledore resumed calmly, "His absence was not abandonment. It was recovery. And it is only now, when all pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place, that he returns—not to reclaim a seat, but to reveal the truth."
Fudge's mouth thinned, but he pressed on. "Even so, we have one man's testimony—two, if you include a convicted fugitive. And a man who has lived in shadows for over a decade. Is this enough to overturn years of Ministry records?"
Before Dumbledore could respond, a shrill voice rang out from the center.
"I'm innocent!"
All heads turned toward the source—Peter Pettigrew, bound in magical restraints, had erupted into panicked shouting.
"They want to kill me!" he cried. "I never betrayed them! Sirius Black used the Imperius Curse on me! He made me give up the Potters' secret—I had no choice! He's the traitor, not me!"
The crowd stirred. Some gasped, others muttered.
Sirius, chained beside him, scoffed in disgust.
Fudge pounced. "You see? Even he admits he was coerced. And yet you still try to shift the blame from Black to Pettigrew!"
McGonagall stood from the side gallery. "Minister, Peter confessed freely under Veritaserum this morning. This display is not testimony—it is panic. Lies bred from desperation."
"I don't care!" Pettigrew wailed. "You're all going to destroy me! I—I never wanted to join the Dark Lord, it was Sirius! He's the one—he's the one who made me—"
His voice was drowned out as the courtroom filled with overlapping voices. Some argued, others shouted for silence.
Fudge raised his voice above the chaos. "This has gone far enough! I move to dismiss both claims until a full Ministry panel can investigate—one not compromised by illegal potions, emotional appeals, or ghost stories from men who vanished!"
Dumbledore turned slowly to face him.
"Very well, Minister. If we cannot come to a conclusion today—then we will let the truth decide." He looked toward the Aurors. "Prepare a second administration of Veritaserum—publicly, before this court."
Fudge paled.
"I believe," Dumbledore continued, "that the truth has no reason to fear scrutiny. And if Peter Pettigrew or Sirius Black has lied—let us all hear it, together."
The courtroom fell silent once more.
All eyes turned to the restrained figures at the center. The weight of decades hung between them.