Sirius is Free!!!

The corridors of the Ministry of Magic echoed with the sound of Harry Potter's confident footsteps as he made his way toward the Wizengamot Council Chamber. Clad in sleek black robes, the Slytherin emblem subtly embroidered on his chest, Harry walked with purpose, a stack of legal documents under his arm. Today was the day he would secure his godfather's freedom once and for all.

Harry had spent the last year immersing himself in both Muggle and wizarding law, preparing for this moment. After years of wrongful imprisonment, Sirius Black was going to get the justice he deserved. It was no small feat, but Harry wasn't one to shy away from challenges. He had faced dragons, dark wizards, and even Voldemort, but today's task had a different weight to it—this was about family.

As Harry neared the chamber, he paused for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts. He wasn't just here to exonerate Sirius; he had a second, more personal agenda. Dolores Umbridge, the Ministry's corrupt undersecretary, had recently been announced as a new Hogwarts professor. Harry had seen her vile tactics firsthand and had already begun gathering evidence to stop her before she could wreak havoc at the school. But for now, he focused on the task at hand—freeing Sirius.

Pushing open the heavy oak doors, Harry entered the large, circular room. The Wizengamot, dressed in their deep purple robes, sat in their elevated seats, their expressions varying from curious to indifferent. At the center of the room sat Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, who gave Harry a nod of acknowledgment. The old wizard's eyes twinkled with encouragement, and Harry gave a slight nod back before stepping forward.

"Mr. Potter, you may begin," Dumbledore said, his calm voice reverberating through the chamber.

Harry placed his documents on the podium in front of him, his tone steady and commanding as he spoke. "Thank you, Chief Warlock. Today, I stand before this Council to correct a grave miscarriage of justice. My godfather, Sirius Black, was wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years without trial, accused of betraying my parents to Voldemort and murdering Peter Pettigrew. I am here to prove that Sirius Black is innocent."

A murmur ran through the chamber as Harry waved his wand, causing a series of documents, testimonies, and magical projections to hover in the air. Each piece of evidence floated for the Wizengamot to see, recounting the truth of what had happened all those years ago.

"The evidence is overwhelming," Harry continued, his voice filled with quiet confidence. "Peter Pettigrew faked his own death and framed Sirius. Pettigrew, who is very much alive, was the true betrayer. He lived for over a decade in his Animagus form, hiding as a pet rat. It was only through the actions of myself, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley that Pettigrew was exposed."

He motioned to a memory orb floating in midair, showing Pettigrew's confession.

"As you can see," Harry said, "Sirius Black never received a fair trial. His incarceration without due process was a violation of wizarding law. It is not only the duty of this Council but also a moral obligation to right this wrong. Sirius Black must be exonerated immediately."

The chamber fell into a tense silence. Dumbledore's gaze swept across the members of the Wizengamot, who were now scrutinizing the evidence in front of them. Some nodded, others looked deep in thought. Harry's heart pounded, but he stood firm. He knew he had presented a flawless case.

"And one last thing," Harry said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "The recent announcement of Dolores Umbridge's appointment as a Hogwarts professor is deeply concerning. I have evidence of her abuse of power within the Ministry, and I will not allow her to corrupt our school. The full report has been submitted to this Council."

Dumbledore raised his hand, silencing the growing murmurs. "The Council will deliberate," he said, dismissing Harry with a warm smile.

Harry stepped back from the podium, exhaling slowly. He had done all he could. Now, it was in the hands of the Wizengamot.

Later That Day

Harry sat in a small, private waiting room, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. Beside him sat Sirius Black, who was nervously tapping his fingers against his leg. Harry glanced over at his godfather and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, Sirius," Harry said. "We've got this."

Sirius ran a hand through his messy hair, letting out a deep breath. "I can't believe we're here. I mean, I've been hoping for this day for years, but I never thought..."

"You never thought you'd have someone fighting for you," Harry finished, his green eyes locking onto Sirius's. "You've got me. And trust me, they don't have a choice."

The door opened, and Dumbledore entered the room, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. "The Council has reached a decision," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. "Sirius Black, you are officially exonerated of all charges. You are free."

Sirius blinked, the words slowly sinking in. Then, in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, he pulled Harry into a tight hug. "Thank you, Harry. I don't know how to repay you."

Harry hugged him back, his smile widening. "You don't have to. We're family."

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "In addition, the Ministry has agreed to a substantial compensation for your wrongful imprisonment. They'll be in touch regarding the details."

Sirius laughed, the sound full of relief and joy. "Well, I suppose some galleons won't hurt, either."

Later That Night: The Slytherin Common Room

Back in the cozy green-lit common room, Harry sat with his three girlfriends—Daphne Greengrass, Hermione Granger, and Tracey Davis—relaxing after a long day of victories. The crackling fire cast warm light on their faces as they lounged on the couches, talking about the day's events.

"I'm glad the Ministry finally saw reason," Daphne said, resting her head on Harry's shoulder. "Sirius deserves his freedom."

"He does," Hermione agreed, sitting across from them with a contented smile. "But I can't believe they even considered letting Umbridge teach at Hogwarts. I read some pretty awful things about her, the woman's a nightmare."

"Don't worry," Harry said with a mischievous grin. "I'm going to make sure she's dealt with before she even sets foot inside the castle."

"You've already outmaneuvered half the Ministry, Harry," Tracey added with a sly smile. "What's one more corrupt official?"

The four of them laughed, the weight of the day finally lifting. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight, they were together, and they had won.

Right now, surrounded by his girls, with Sirius now a free man, he felt ready for whatever came next.

One way or another, Harry Potter was going to win.

The Great Hall was alive with chatter, the walls decorated in the brilliant green and silver banners of Slytherin—Harry's house had won both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup for the third year running. The air was buzzing with excitement as the students, teachers, and guests settled into their seats for the End of Year Ceremony.

Professor Dumbledore stood at the head of the room, his usual beaming expression in place as he raised his arms to quiet the crowd.

"Another year has come to an end," Dumbledore began, his voice filled with warmth and wisdom. "We have faced many challenges and experienced many triumphs. And though the Triwizard Tournament was more dangerous than expected, our champions have shown extraordinary courage."

Dumbledore's gaze fell on Harry, who sat surrounded by his three girlfriends—Daphne Greengrass, Hermione Granger, and Tracey Davis—all of whom looked at him with a mix of pride and affection. Harry had done more than just survive the tournament; he had emerged victorious in both the tasks and in the face of Voldemort, a battle that few outside his inner circle knew had taken place.

"The champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are returning to their schools, but they will always be friends of Hogwarts. Let us not forget the camaraderie we have shared during these months," Dumbledore continued, looking toward Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum, both seated at the end of the hall with their respective schools. "Let us applaud their bravery, as well."

The hall erupted into applause, and Fleur caught Harry's eye, giving him a soft smile. Harry's heart warmed as he smiled back, his mind already anticipating what would come next. The ceremony was soon coming to an end, and Harry had something important to do.

Dumbledore concluded his speech, the students gave their final cheers, and the Headmaster motioned for the feast to begin. The tables were soon laden with food, but Harry's attention was focused on Fleur. He stood, excusing himself from his group, and walked across the Great Hall to where Fleur sat with her fellow Beauxbatons students.

The moment she saw him approaching, Fleur's eyes brightened, and she gracefully rose to meet him halfway. Her silver-blonde hair shimmered in the hall's candlelight, and her soft blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of happiness and sadness. The end of the year meant goodbye, and neither of them was ready to part so soon.

"Harry," Fleur greeted him softly, her voice like music to his ears. "I was wondering when you'd come to say goodbye."

"I'm not really the goodbye type," Harry said with a grin, "but for you, I'll make an exception."

Fleur blushed, a rare sight for the usually composed and confident part-Veela. She reached out, resting a hand on his arm. "These months have been… memorable, Harry. I will not forget them."

"Neither will I," Harry replied, his voice softening. "But this doesn't have to be goodbye forever. You know that, right?"

Before Fleur could respond, Harry leaned in and, in front of the entire school, pressed a tender kiss to her lips. Fleur froze in surprise for a moment, but then melted into the kiss, her hand moving to cup the side of his face. The Hall seemed to collectively hold its breath, the students and teachers alike watching in stunned silence as Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived, Triwizard Champion, and Slytherin's hero—kissed the beautiful Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, in front of everyone.

When they pulled apart, Fleur's cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-lidded with emotion. She leaned her forehead against his, whispering, "You always know how to make an exit, don't you?"

Harry chuckled. "Only with you."

The hall erupted in cheers and applause, breaking the spell of silence that had hung over them. Fleur gave him one last, lingering look before turning to return to her table, a soft, almost wistful smile on her lips.

Later that night, Harry stood with Dumbledore and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix—McGonagall, Moody, Sirius, Snape, Sprout, and Sinistra—in a hidden chamber of the castle. The time for celebration had passed, and now, a new mission loomed ahead.

"Tonight, we strike at a Death Eater outpost," Dumbledore explained to the gathered group. "It is crucial that we act swiftly and decisively. Voldemort's return has sparked renewed activity among his followers, and this particular cell has information we cannot afford to lose."

Harry, though still young, had already proven his mettle time and time again. He nodded, standing beside Sirius, who placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Ready for this, Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice filled with pride. He had fully recovered, both physically and emotionally, from his time in Azkaban, and Harry could see a new fire in his godfather's eyes.

"I was born ready," Harry said with a confident smirk. His mind was already racing ahead, thinking about the battle that was to come. Yet, beyond the mission, something deeper gnawed at him—his desire to understand magic in its purest form.

While his magical abilities were impressive—far beyond his years—Harry had always felt that there was something more. He wanted to tap into magic's very essence, to discover its origins and wield power on a scale that transcended what was known.

"I've been thinking," Harry began, turning to Dumbledore, who listened intently. "We use magic every day, but none of us truly know where it comes from. I want to find the source. I want to understand its origins."

Dumbledore's expression was one of curiosity and respect. "A noble pursuit, Harry. Many have sought such knowledge, though few have succeeded."

"I'm not like the others," Harry replied, his green eyes gleaming with determination. "I've been powerful, but I know there's more. My body's always been stronger than my magic, and I'm starting to think there's a reason for that. I want to find out what true magic is—its raw essence, before wizards started shaping it into spells and incantations."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Sounds ambitious."

"It is," Harry admitted. "But I'm tired of limits. I want to surpass them. I'm not content with just being the Boy Who Lived. I want more."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "If that is your goal, Harry, then your journey will take you to places few have ventured. But first, we must complete our task tonight."

The Order moved swiftly and silently through the night, their wands at the ready as they approached the Death Eater outpost hidden deep in the countryside. Harry, flanked by Sirius and Moody, led the charge. The battle was intense but short—Harry's skills in both physical combat and magic were unmatched. With a few precise, devastating moves, Harry incapacitated multiple Death Eaters, his body moving with fluidity and speed that left his opponents helpless.

As the Order swept through the compound, Harry found himself standing over a stack of documents—maps, attack plans, and locations of future targets. He quickly gathered them, his mind already racing with the implications. This was crucial information—information that could save countless lives.

But even as the battle came to a close, Harry's thoughts drifted back to his quest for power. His eyes narrowed as he thought about the essence of magic, a power he knew existed beyond the limits of what wizards had learned to control. He wanted that power, craved it even.

As they returned to Hogwarts in the dead of night, Harry couldn't help but think about what lay ahead. The journey to understand magic's origin would be long and treacherous, but if anyone could uncover its secrets, it was him.

And he would stop at nothing to find it.