0299 Negotiations

The corridor leading to the hospital wing was a beacon of light and activity in the otherwise darkened castle. Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was a flurry of motion, darting between rooms with a sense of urgency that matched the gravity of the situation.

Harry and Hermione approached their room, which remained closed. As they neared the door, Dumbledore's voice reached them, muffled but clear, "If you're not sure what to do, Miss Granger, I suggest you follow the original path. I wish you good luck."

Then, the door opened, and Dumbledore appeared in front of them.

"Professor Dumbledore!"

Harry wasn't sure if he should reveal himself now, as they wouldn't be able to explain if they were caught by Madam Pomfrey. But he also wasn't sure if Dumbledore could see him, so he could only make a sound to remind him of their presence.

"Professor, we did it!" Harry said, out of breath. "We caught Peter, he's trapped in the chrysalis, and I think he's still alive."

Dumbledore listened intently, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of movement. His gaze finally settled on Harry, and a smile touched his lips, "You've created a miracle again, Harry, and Hermione, well done. I think—oh, now's not the time to chat. Hand Peter over to me, and you'd better hurry back to the ward to rest—"

Snap—

With a snap of his fingers, Dumbledore conjured a stretcher out of thin air. The chrysalis containing Peter floated gracefully from beneath the invisibility cloak and settled onto the stretcher. Dumbledore's expression, usually warm and inviting, now turned icy as he gazed at the chrysalis, his eyes reflecting a steely resolve emitted an aura that Harry and Hermione had never seen before.

"Professor Dumbledore–" Hermione's voice quivered with a mixture of awe and fear. "How are you going to explain this to the Ministry, I mean, the process of capturing Peter?"

"Don't worry, there will be an explanation--" Dumbledore said gently.

"One more thing, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione interjected, urgency lacing her words, "the people from the Ministry have arrived downstairs. There's a whole group of them, and Professor Watson is with them."

With a nod that conveyed a multitude of unspoken assurances, Dumbledore departed, his silhouette merging with the shadows as he carried Peter away. Harry and Hermione, their hearts still racing from the adrenaline of their escapade, slipped into the room. They stole one last fleeting glance at the receding figures, the torchlight casting a soft glow on the walls as they disappeared from view.

"This trip was really not easy," Harry remarked, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin that belied the gravity of their situation. He took off the invisibility cloak, its fabric landing to the floor.

"But I have to say, the feeling of traveling through time is so amazing," he continued, his eyes alight with the thrill of their adventure, a spark of wonder flickering within.

Hermione, her own smile mirroring Harry's, was on the cusp of voicing her thoughts when a sudden, faint crackling sound pierced the moment, akin to the delicate shattering of glass. Her smile faltered, her lips parting in a silent gasp of shock.

Her expression congealed into one of stark disbelief as she lowered her gaze, her fingers trembling as they sought the source of the ominous sound. With a haste born of dread, she extracted the hourglass pendant that had been nestled against her chest, its chain clinking softly in the quiet room.

The hourglass, once whole and brimming with the golden sands of time, now bore a slender, jagged crack, a flaw marring its otherwise pristine surface. The light caught the fracture, casting prismatic reflections that danced mockingly across Hermione's face. And before her disbelieving eyes, the sands within began to drift away, each grain a fleeting memory, a moment slipping through the cracks of time itself.

*Scenebreak*

The moon had vanished from the sky, along with the myriad stars, marking the darkest hour before dawn. A chilling silence ruled the land, and Hogwarts shone like a beacon in the endless night, or perhaps a lighthouse standing alone against the stormy coast, dispelling the fear that gnawed at one's heart.

"If I were to rank the worst things that have happened in the past twelve years, before today, Dumbledore, I can tell you for sure that it was Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban. But now, something even more dreadful has happened!"

Half an hour ago, led by Bryan, Fudge and a group of Ministry officials stormed into the Hospital Wing.

Ignoring Madam Pomfrey's stern protest, at Fudge's signal, Rufus Scrimgeour swiftly dispatched his subordinates to replace Professor McGonagall and the others, and began guarding all the staff who entered the Forbidden Forest tonight.

Especially Sirius, who was unconscious, more than half of the Aurors, including Kingsley, squatted by his bedside, pointing their wands at him. The majority of the remaining Aurors were interrogating Peter in an abandoned classroom.

The general situation of the matter has been explained by Bryan on the way from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, but that was only his side of the story. Moreover, Bryan himself used a very powerful dark magic spell-The Fiendfyre Curse in front of everyone, even though it was to slay the 'evil' werewolves, it greatly reduced his credibility in Fudge's mind.

However, when Dumbledore led them to the supposedly deceased hero, Peter Pettigrew, everything didn't need any further explanation.

"Sirius is, in fact, innocent!"

Bryan offered his office, and Fudge and Mrs. Bones, representing the Ministry's will, as well as Dumbledore and Bryan himself, representing Hogwarts, were discussing how to handle this matter properly.

Dumbledore sat upright on the sofa against the wall, with Mrs. Bones sitting in a similar posture.

And Bryan, who didn't need to express his opinion for the time being, squatted in front of the fireplace with his back to everyone, absentmindedly fiddling with the firewood inside the fireplace.

Only Fudge, with a head as big as a bull, paced back and forth in the spacious office. He kept wiping the sweat from his forehead, but his face was pale.

"I understand your concerns, Cornelius--"

Dumbledore's deep blue eyes flashed with a hint of helplessness, his voice still calm.

"But we have to face the facts, face the truth--"

"The truth?!" Fudge stopped in his tracks, laughing bitterly in anger. 

"Who cares about the truth, Dumbledore? Is it Sirius Black, the Daily Prophet, or the denizens of Magical Britain?"

After holding back for so long, Fudge finally let loose, his shrill rant making the office windows tremble.

"--If Black cared about the truth, he should have spoken up twelve years ago instead of allowing himself to be sent to Azkaban!

Does the Daily Prophet and its shareholders care about the truth? They only care about whether the front page of the newspaper has content that interests the public. If sensationalism drives sales, then the manufacturers of brooms and cauldrons will eagerly part with more Galleons for advertising space!

And the public—do they truly seek the truth? Oh, Dumbledore, they crave enthralling tales, they idolize tragic figures. They only want to see the Ministry of Magic in trouble. Well, now they have their wish fulfilled, but at what cost? Only the Ministry, only the Ministry of Magic stands to suffer the consequences!

The foolish Ministry of Magic awarded a Death Eater the Order of Merlin, First Class, and sent the hero who fought against the Dark Lord to the depths of Azkaban. Haha, it's really ironic. The reputation of the Ministry of Magic is completely ruined, in my hands!"

"Cornelius--" Mrs. Bones's face was solemn as she gently reminded Fudge to pay attention to his image. "It is precisely because the situation is so delicate that we must stay calm."

Fudge stared at the floor and stopped speaking, while Mrs. Bones adjusted her glasses and turned her gaze to Dumbledore, expressing her concerns.

"Albus, Cornelius's worries are reasonable. If we can't handle this matter properly, the credibility of the Ministry and Wizengamot will be affected. People will no longer trust us, and we cannot afford such a loss."

In fact, with Dumbledore's experience and wisdom, how could he not have considered these things? However, perspectives differ, and the focus of concern is different. Moreover, some things were not suitable for him to say.

A glimmer of light flashed in Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles, and he stared at Bryan, who had been squatting there fiddling with the firewood for a long time, making the office uncomfortably warm with a sigh of helplessness in his heart.

Apart from the crackling sound of sparks bursting, the office fell silent, and no one wanted to express their opinions easily.

Sirius, lying unconscious on the hospital bed, probably didn't realize how much trouble his actions had caused the Ministry, and how much trouble it had caused to Dumbledore, who wanted to save him.

Once the truth is known to the public, the Ministry will immediately become a laughingstock. This is a very serious political incident, and someone must take responsibility for the damaged reputation of the Ministry. This almost means that Fudge will have to step down voluntarily. Therefore, it is very difficult to make Fudge voluntarily clarify the truth and restore Sirius's innocence.

"Let me be blunt, Dumbledore--" After a long pause, Fudge, in the most awkward position, gasped and said, "You have to order everyone at Hogwarts who knows about this to keep it a secret. Peter will be imprisoned secretly in Azkaban, and he will be sentenced to lifelong imprisonment in secret. 

As for Sirius Black, the Ministry will revoke and withdraw the wanted order at an appropriate time, I mean, when people are no longer paying attention to this matter. You understand what I mean, he just needs to keep a low profile and live outside. Of course, the Ministry can compensate for the wrongful trial and twelve years of imprisonment."

Dumbledore's expression showed no surprise, as if he had already anticipated Fudge's calculations in his heart.

"This is unfair to Sirius, Cornelius--" Dumbledore lowered his eyelids and said wearily.

Mrs. Bones on the other side also looked very troubled. On the one hand, Fudge's decision does not match her personal style of doing things, and she cannot support Fudge's approach. On the other hand, as a representative of the Wizengamot, she must consider the far-reaching impact of this matter.

"It was his own choice, wasn't it?" Fudge retorted, his expression darkening with a cold resolve.

"He had the chance, not only back then, but throughout these twelve years, to speak the truth at any time. But he chose to remain silent."

Fudge paused, as if to let the weight of his words settle, before continuing.

"And, I think you haven't forgotten, Dumbledore, in September last year, Sirius tried to enter Grimmauld Place, which was being monitored by the Aurors. He caused great damage to the Muggle world and even kept an Auror in St. Mungo's Hospital for a few days. Based on this charge alone, he deserves twelve years of imprisonment. And now, the Ministry can choose to let bygones be bygones--"

"There is no evidence to prove that the Dark Wizard who appeared in Grimmauld Place in London at that time was Sirius Black, Cornelius. And I think you now know very well that it wasn't Sirius--"

Dumbledore said in a serious tone, "I guess it was just a Dark Wizard who tried to break into the Black family's Manor, trying to find Sirius and exchange him for a bounty from the Ministry."

'Cough, cough, yes, that's me.'

Bryan, who had been facing away from everyone, smiled slightly.

The situation once again reached a stalemate. Whether it was Fudge or Dumbledore, neither could give up their own views. And Madam Bones, who was known for her fairness, was also caught in a dilemma for various reasons. This was a difficult game, and if it continued like this, both sides would suffer.

Of course, Dumbledore had the power to overturn the negotiation table, but he couldn't do that. It conflicted with the principles he had always adhered to.

"Cough—Cough--" Bryan, who was choked by the flying ashes, coughed a few times, muttering in confusion, "Who was it that presided over the trial and ordered Sirius Black to be sent to Azkaban back then?"

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