Kingsley escorted them to the door, then returned to Auror Headquarters. Dumbledore turned the iron handle, and he and Kyle entered the courtroom. The mont the door opened, the noise swelled around them.
Kyle took in the scene. The walls of the courtroom were made of black stone, with narrow windows high up near the ceiling. The dim light filtering through cast a somber atmosphere over the room. On either side, rows of benches rose in tiers, filled with people whispering intently.
"Albus, you've co at last," Fudge said, hurrying over. "Here's the problem—I'm not sure if the owl reached Black... if he doesn't show up, this retrial will be a complete farce."
"Don't worry, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly. "He's already here."
"What...?" Fudge looked behind Dumbledore in surprise.
With a flash of fla, Fawkes the Phoenix appeared, flapping his wings as he materialized on Dumbledore's shoulder. Alongside him, transported by Fawkes, stood a gaunt, pale man—Sirius Black. He looked exactly as he had in prison, with tangled hair and a scruffy beard, clothed in worn and dirty robes. His face was ashen, and he swayed unsteadily on his feet, looking as if he might collapse at any mont.
Kyle understood Sirius's condition. Anyone who experienced Phoenix-assisted Apparition for the first ti often felt shaken.
Seeing Sirius, Fudge let out a sigh of relief. He had been anxious that Black might not appear, which would have turned the retrial into a mockery. Thankfully, he had made it.
Fudge cast a bewildered glance at Dumbledore, then turned and headed back to his place on the steps. Without Fudge blocking the view, the entire room caught sight of Sirius. A swell of murmurs filled the space, reminiscent of the roar of a Quidditch stadium. Kyle even heard soone shout, "Aurors, arrest the fugitive!" as if they didn't grasp the purpose of this gathering.
"Silence!" Fudge commanded. "Everyone is finally here. Let us begin."
Instantly, the courtroom fell silent.
Sirius drew a deep breath and, under the scrutiny of hundreds, walked slowly to the central chair, his gaze steady despite his weakened state.
"I don't understand, Minister," ca a cold voice from the benches. "You've captured the fugitive. Just toss him back in Azkaban or hand him over to the Dentors. Why waste ti on a retrial?"
"Patience, Barty," Fudge replied slowly. "I have received substantial evidence that Black may, in fact, be innocent."
A murmur rippled through the courtroom once again.
"Rubbish!" Bartemius Crouch retorted, his face reddening with indignation. "Twelve years ago, an entire street witnessed that he'd betrayed the Potters and killed Peter Pettigrew, who confronted him."
"But as I understand it," Fudge replied smoothly, "people only heard soone shouting accusations. No one actually saw what happened. And what would you say if I told you Peter Pettigrew is still alive?"
"That's impossible!" Crouch exclaid.
"Nothing is impossible," Fudge said, ignoring Crouch's intensifying scowl. He raised his voice toward the door, "Bring him in."
The door opened, and Dawlish entered, all eyes following him. But as they realized he was alone, attention shifted to the cage he held, bound in chains.
Crouch's expression darkened as Dawlish opened the cage and tipped out a half-dead rat onto the floor.
"Don't tell this is Peter Pettigrew!" Crouch demanded coldly.
Fudge said nothing, glancing at Dumbledore as if seeking confirmation.
"Allow ," Dumbledore replied, stepping forward and drawing his wand. "Show yourself imdiately!"
A blue light cascaded over the rat, which imdiately began twisting and growing, limbs and a head taking shape. Monts later, a short man stood before them, his thinning hair askew, with a large bald patch on top, a pointed nose, and small, greenish eyes that still hinted at his ti spent as a rat.
A collective gasp went through the crowd, and several witches and wizards shrieked, leaping to their feet as they recognized Peter Pettigrew.
"This can't be..."
"He's supposed to be dead..."
"What in rlin's na is going on?"
Crouch also rose, his face drained of color. anwhile, a group of Aurors approached to verify Peter's identity.
Kyle noticed that, the mont Peter transford back, Sirius's fists clenched, his eyes flaring with deep-seated hatred. He was breathing heavily, as if he could barely restrain himself from lunging at the man who had betrayed him. Yet sohow, he managed to hold himself back.
"Everyone..." Auror Director Scrimgeour's voice bood as he put away an empty vial. "This is indeed Peter Pettigrew."
"Excellent..." Fudge said, deliberately avoiding Crouch's gaze as he went through the formalities. "With all parties present, I hereby declare the comncent of the retrial of Sirius Orion Black, accused of murdering twelve Muggles, betraying the Potters, and causing the explosion on a London street in November 1981."
"Inquisitors: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Alia Susan Bones, Director of the Departnt of Magical Law Enforcent; Bartemius Crouch, Director of the Departnt of International Magical Cooperation... and Gilbert Wimple, Court Scribe."
"Witness: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Dumbledore was announced, rising to his feet.
As Kyle hesitated, unsure if he, too, should stand, he felt a subtle but firm pressure on his shoulder, as if an invisible hand were reassuring him to stay seated. Kyle glanced at Dumbledore, sensing his silent ssage, and remained still.
Fudge shot a brief look in Kyle's direction but didn't comnt. He nodded at Dumbledore. "Then please, Witness Dumbledore, state your testimony. When did you learn that Peter Pettigrew was still alive?"
"Thanks to the remarkable perception of a keen student, who noticed an Animagus hiding in plain sight..." Dumbledore replied, gesturing subtly toward Kyle. For a mont, Kyle felt all eyes on him, but the focus quickly returned to Dumbledore, as the crowd waited to hear his explanation.
Dumbledore recounted the details he'd previously shared with Fudge, explaining how Peter had been the Potters' Secret Keeper, betraying them to Voldemort, and framing Sirius. As he spoke, the reactions from the inquisitors and the assembled wizards varied: so looked shocked, others angry, but many appeared skeptical.
When Dumbledore ntioned that Peter had been the Secret Keeper, Crouch abruptly stood again.
"Where is the proof?" he interrupted rudely. "Peter may have hidden his survival due to fear of Death Eater retaliation, but that doesn't make him guilty of everything!"
Crouch's gaze shifted to Peter, as if expecting him to offer a defense. But he was disappointed. Peter remained motionless on the floor, silent, not responding even when addressed directly.
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