Trial and New Beginnings
"So, Mr. Dovahkiin… you captured the one responsible for luring Mr. Potter and Mr. Diggory into a trap at the cemetery? A conspiracy in which Mr. Peter Pettigrew was the main assailant, accompanied by other accomplices who fled the scene?" asked Cornelius Fudge in a pompous tone, like a man who sees himself as judge, jury, and executioner in a trial he clearly did not want to hold.
The trial to exonerate Sirius Black.
Einar raised an eyebrow. He wasn't stupid.
Fudge wasn't seeking justice. He only wanted to clean up the Ministry's image, divert attention from the return of the Dark Lord, and place all the blame on Pettigrew... and conveniently, on a dead man like Barty Crouch Jr., who could no longer defend himself. It was a cowardly political maneuver—like everything the Ministry did.
And he, Einar, had neither the time nor the patience to play politics.
"Yes," he replied coldly, his voice rumbling like dry thunder. No embellishments, no emphasis. Just a single word, heavy with contempt for everything that courtroom stood for.
He was sick of it. He was only there because Harry had earnestly begged him. Reluctantly, Einar had agreed to stand before that court of incompetent, cowardly fools in ties.
"You may step down," said Fudge quickly, eager to remove the uncomfortable presence.
But before Einar could move, a poisonous voice interrupted.
"Minister… may I ask Mr. Dovahkiin a question?" said a woman softly, with a powdered face, a fake smile, and eyes sharp as blades. Dolores Umbridge.
"Of course, Dolores," replied Fudge with a forced smile.
"Mr. Dovahkiin demonstrated considerable power during the Triwizard Tournament… My question is: if he is so strong, how is it that the other culprits managed to escape? Or is it perhaps that Mr. Dovahkiin let them go deliberately, once they had already failed?"
Her words dripped with venom, each syllable crafted to implant the idea that Einar was an accomplice. And seeing the satisfied gleam in Fudge's eyes, Einar understood: this wasn't just a question. It was a trap.
A desperate attempt to paint him as an ally of darkness.
The air in the room shifted.
Einar slowly raised his head. His voice was a low whisper, laced with threat and deadly certainty:
"Indeed, I'm strong enough to behead half the people here before they raise their wands… and give the other half enough time to watch the massacre before joining it."
The temperature plummeted.
An aura of blood, of battle, of impending death surged from his body like an invisible storm.
Everyone in the courtroom froze.
Some gasped. Others trembled. Dolores felt the air vanish from her lungs—his thirst for blood was aimed directly at her. Her lips trembled. Her throat seemed to swallow her breath.
And yet, Einar spoke with chilling calm:
"While I was fighting Voldemort, someone else helped the others escape. I don't know who it was."
The forbidden name thundered through the court like lightning. Several jurors flinched. Fudge went pale as a sheet. He hadn't expected Einar to say the name… much less so casually.
He had counted on Einar losing his temper, reacting violently to Umbridge's attack… so he could accuse him of hostile conduct and derail the entire trial.
But Einar didn't fall into the trap. He did worse. He exposed him—and made him tremble.
"Nonsense!" Fudge shouted, his voice trembling.
Silence still hung in the air like a tombstone.
Umbridge, red-faced and shaking, clung to her last card.
"Y-y-you are an illegal Animagus. Your transformation during the Tournament confirms it—"
"I'm not an Animagus," Einar interrupted with supernatural calm. "An Animagus doesn't partially transform into a dragon."
His words were final. Irrefutable. And just as if his murderous aura had been an illusion, the bloodlust vanished instantly—like a shadow erased by light.
"I've said all I needed to say. If you plan to keep digging for a crime to charge me with, be warned: I am not a friendly person," he said firmly, his mask reflecting a cold, hard light.
Fudge clenched his teeth, visibly frustrated. Einar hadn't just withstood the attack… he had won. And pressing further would only make their desperation more obvious.
"You may leave," Fudge growled at last, curt and bitter.
Einar turned around without looking at anyone. He walked steadily toward the exit, leaving behind a courtroom that still felt haunted by his shadow.
"Well then. With the statements of Mr. Potter, Mr. Diggory, Mr. Dovahkiin… and the confession of Peter Pettigrew under truth serum… how does the jury find Mr. Sirius Orion Black III?" Fudge asked hurriedly, eager to close the chapter.
A tall witch with chestnut hair stood with a parchment in hand.
"The jury finds Mr. Black innocent of all charges… except that of being an unregistered Animagus. However, considering he spent twelve years in prison for a crime that carries a sentence of four, the Ministry will compensate him with 100,000 galleons for each additional year. All properties, titles, and rights of the Black family are hereby restored."
Fudge lowered his gaze. His lips formed the words that pained him most:
"Case closed. Sirius Orion Black is hereby released. The Ministry officially apologizes for the mistakes of the past."
The bang of the gavel rang out like a bell of freedom.
Sirius stepped out with his head held high. His eyes shimmered with pride, emotion, and contained relief. Outside, Harry waited for him alongside Einar. As soon as they saw each other, the boy ran to embrace his godfather.
"I'm glad it ended quickly, Padfoot," said Harry with a genuine smile.
"The Minister just wanted to use this trial as a smokescreen. Of course they'd speed it up. I'm sorry, Einar," said Sirius with a tired smile.
"It's fine. It's not the first time this happens… Though usually I ended up being blamed for something my children did," he added quietly.
Sirius let out a laugh.
"Now I can be your legal guardian in the wizarding world, Harry."
The boy smiled with a joy that lit up his eyes.
"How about I join your journey?" Sirius suddenly asked.
"What journey?" Harry asked, blinking in confusion.
Sirius turned his head to Einar.
"You didn't tell him?"
"Why ask? I'm just going to take him," Einar replied calmly.
...…..
On Privet Drive, there was a house that prided itself on being the perfect example of normality. Well-trimmed lawn, spotless curtains, a devoted wife, a spoiled son, and a husband with a well-paid job. Everything in that house screamed "ordinary happiness."
But even in the most normal families, exceptions are sometimes born.
An anomaly.
A freak, to paraphrase the man of the house's favorite word.
And in this family, that "freak" had a name: Harry Potter.
The neighbors knew about him, of course. Not because they saw him often — the Dursleys made sure to keep him hidden like a dirty secret — but because of what was said about him. According to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Harry was a rude, troublesome brat, expelled from several schools and finally sent to an institution for juvenile delinquents.
"A disgrace to the family," they would often mutter.
Although those who caught glimpses of him from afar, with his baggy clothes and reserved gaze, couldn't help but think he didn't seem dangerous at all… Still, just in case, no one got close.
Maybe — just maybe — Vernon Dursley was right to be afraid.
Not because of what Harry was.
But because of who came with him.
That afternoon, the artificial calm of Privet Drive was shattered by the arrival of two figures who looked as though they'd stepped out of a nightmare.
The first was Sirius Black, the notorious fugitive whose face had graced newspapers for months. Authorities said that if you saw him, you shouldn't even try to capture him — shoot to kill was the only recommendation.
The second was even more unsettling. A tall young man with a strange mask covering his face, an imposing presence, and a piercing gaze. There was no news about him. None was needed. His mere presence chilled the blood.
Einar.
Vernon Dursley himself went pale at the sight. His legs trembled, as if his body recognized the danger before his mind did.
Behind the sofa, Dudley cowered and shook, remembering with a shiver how that same young man had taken away his tongue with a single motion. Though the healing had been instant, the trauma was seared into his memory. Not a day passed without a nightmare waking him in cold sweat.
"W-what do you want here? I'll call the police! A convict and a psychopath…!" Vernon bellowed in desperation, his voice shriller than ever.
But Harry interrupted him — for the first time in his life — without a hint of fear.
"Sirius has been cleared. He's free. So calling the police won't do anything."
He said it with a calmness that even surprised his uncle. There was something in his gaze, a new flame. He was no longer alone. He stood flanked by two giants. Two shadows of power.
Sirius stepped forward.
"Let's get to the point," he said in a grave, irrefutable tone. "Harry is coming to live with me, in the magical world. This is not a request. It's not a suggestion. It's a fact."
From the hallway, Petunia — who had been spying with a tense expression — rushed to speak:
"He can't! Dumbledore said the protection—!"
Sirius raised a hand. The gesture alone was enough to silence her.
"We already spoke to Dumbledore. For the protection to remain, Harry only needs to see you once every six months. And with what's happening today, that's more than enough. The rest… I don't care. You never protected him. Never cared for him. And still, you benefited from him all these years."
Petunia's eyes filled with panic.
"But Dumbledore told us that... that we might be targets too, for being his guardians...!"
Sirius narrowed his eyes.
"If you had treated Harry like a family member, he might've moved heaven and earth to protect you. But after everything he's told me... I won't lift a finger. I came to inform you, not to negotiate. I recommend finding a place far from Britain. As far as possible."
He turned without looking back. Einar followed, in his usual frozen silence.
Harry, before crossing the threshold, paused for a second. He looked at his aunt and uncle. There was no fear anymore. No hatred. Only calm indifference. Freedom felt as vast as the open sky after years of captivity.
Outside the house, the sun warmed his face.
"So… what now?" Harry asked, with an uncertain smile. He felt free, yes. But also lost. Like a bird unsure of where to fly.
Einar answered without hesitation:
"We're going to Egypt."
"Egypt?" Harry and Sirius repeated in unison, confused.
"Yes. Ruins. Ancient magic. I get bored easily… and after nearly a year teaching, I need to see something interesting."
Sirius let out a low laugh — the first in a long time.
"Egypt it is, then..." he said with a shrug. "I guess Dumbledore and the Order can handle Voldemort for a while. I've got more important things to do."
He looked at Harry and, for the first time, smiled like a real godfather.
"Let's make this new life worth it."