The birth of the savior gradually dissipated the black fog shrouding the sky in London, and the famous Dark Lord actually lost to a baby. The Ministry of Magic also began to enjoy the fruits of victory. Pure-blood families escaped trial in the name of being under the Imperius Curse, but they still paid a heavy price. The Black family has been a pureblood for thousands of years, but there is only one Sirius left in Azkaban. At the trial meeting of the Ministry of Magic, he attempted to take over the Black legacy in the name of the Black family having no heir. = not mine { just a translator } "Who said I have no one in the Black family?" Cottrell Black was born, and the third son of the Black family returned from abroad. Cole said that as long as I am here, the Black family will not die. Blake's glory will once again shine in the wizarding world
**Chapter 1: Sirius Trial - Is There Anyone Left In The Black Family?**
In 1982, amidst the hustle and bustle of foggy London, pedestrians hurried along the roads due to the economic downturn.
Unmindful of their surroundings, gentlemen in suits and ties walked past without noticing the peculiar individuals among them.
Occasionally, figures clad in wizard robes scurried by, casting wary glances around, their faces devoid of smiles.
These wizards disappeared into the phone booths that lined the streets, never to emerge again.
For those observant enough, it wouldn't escape notice that more than a hundred individuals had entered these seemingly ordinary phone booths.
London, the epicenter of the British Ministry of Magic, pulsated with anticipation, hinting at something significant about to unfold.
Descending into the underground, numerous wizards congregated within the Ministry's halls, exchanging hushed conversations.
"That man's finally gone. We needn't hide any longer."
"Indeed. I'll journey to my aunt's house in Bulgaria to retrieve my family."
Suppressing their elation, they cast eager gazes toward the Ministry's Tribunal location.
In the courtroom, the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, exuded confidence as he stole a glance at Old Barty Crouch nearby.
He mused to himself: Were it not for Crouch's son's commendable actions, he might have been in Fudge's position today.
Turning to Dumbledore, the legendary white wizard, Fudge noted the slight sorrow in his eyes, puzzled by the smile Dumbledore had earlier bestowed upon the assailant of the Ministry.
"Silence, everyone, silence."
Brandishing a small hammer, Fudge struck the table, commanding the attention of the esteemed wizards present.
Fudge refrained from speaking, a sense of pride swelling within him as he recognized the deference most accorded to the white wizard beside him.
However, he acknowledged Dumbledore's pivotal support in attaining his current position.
"Mr. Lucius Malfoy, did you claim to have been under the Imperius Curse, thereby compelled to serve a mysterious individual?"
The collective gaze of the wizards fixated upon the platinum-blond figure below, many regarding him with disdain.
Lucius tightened his grip on his wand, resolute in ensuring the survival of the Malfoy family.
"Minister, indeed. It was the despicable actions of said individual that coerced me into committing those malevolent deeds."
Lucius maintained the demeanor of a pure-blood noble, undeterred by the sneers from the spectators.
Fudge, wearing a satisfied smile, nodded. One hundred thousand gold galleons was a substantial sum, especially considering his modest monthly salary.
The noble's willingness to donate further underscored their affluent status, leaving Fudge contemplating how best to utilize the considerable sum.
Lucius signaled to a wizard among the audience, his resolve unshaken despite the veiled threats and agreements exchanged.
"Minister, esteemed members of the Inquisition, many were compelled to commit atrocities under the Imperius Curse. We cannot readily ascertain their culpability."
Fudge furrowed his brow, aware of the formidable influence wielded by these pure-blood families, which posed a challenge to his authority as a newly appointed minister.
Observing Dumbledore's reticence, Fudge pronounced: "Lucius Malfoy, under the Imperius Curse, is hereby acquitted of all charges."
As the gavel fell, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief, cognizant of the sacrifices made to secure his family's safety.
Surveying his wife and son in the corner, a flicker of tenderness softened Lucius' gaze before he departed.
Fudge shook his head, preparing for the climax of the day's proceedings.
"Sirius Black stands accused of betraying the Potters and committing heinous crimes. He will be immediately sent to Azkaban."
Fudge's decree reverberated through the courtroom, prompting a reaction from the statuesque Dumbledore.
Sirius, the sole Gryffindor scion of the Black family, had veered off the righteous path, eliciting a pang of sorrow from Dumbledore, his former mentor.
"Bellatrix Lestrange's use of the Unforgivable Curse on the Longbottoms warrants a life sentence in Azkaban."
With this pronouncement, the decline of the Black family, one of wizardry's oldest, seemed imminent.
As Sirius entered Azkaban and Regulus Arcturus Black vanished, the ancient lineage faced the prospect of extinction.
Yet, amidst their indifference to the Black family's fate, covetous eyes lingered on their substantial wealth and assets.
"The Black family's businesses and estates will henceforth be managed by the Ministry, with profits directed to their ancestral home."
Fudge proclaimed, his excitement palpable, though his intentions remained suspect.
Though discontent brewed among the wizarding elite, none dared to challenge Fudge, their deference to Dumbledore prevailing.
As Fudge poised to finalize his decree, a voice pierced the silence.
"Who dares claim there are no heirs to the Black family?"
A figure with raven locks and golden eyes strode in, commanding the attention of all present.
Eyes filled with curiosity fixated upon this aristocratic figure, instinctively recognizing his pure-blood lineage.
Adorned with shoulder-length black hair, a handsome countenance, and a faint smile, he exuded an irresistible charm.
Fudge seethed with anger, unwilling to tolerate defiance, save for the individual beside him.
"Identify yourself and explain your presence."
"Cottrell Black, Minister Fudge. As you might imagine , I am of the Black bloodline."
Cole's soft-spoken declaration resonated within the trial court, setting the stage for what lay ahead.