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Chapter Text

The door had slammed closed behind the auror. Sirius let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. His head fell back against the cold wall. He was exhausted. Wartime wasn't fun to begin with but the past week had forced his head underwater, his lungs burning and the pressure stabbing his head. He knew for a fact that he had been locked away at least two days, Robards wasn't smart enough to hide his watch. Or maybe he was smart enough to change the time before going in the cell. They were supposed to be on the same side, for crying out loud! Well, not any more, since he had apparently murdered in cold blood –not sure if that worked with being completely mad– twelve muggles and one of his best-friend after betraying and causing the death of another. Sirius would have laughed if he had been able to think about anything else but the twelve hours that had preceded his arrest. Finding Peter's home empty, apparating in Godric’s Hollow, finding James, then Lily and finally, Harry, still in his crib. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. Leaving Harry with Hagrid and going after Peter himself. Not warning Remus. Now he was stuck here, Peter was gone, Harry with Lily's sister and, from what Sirius knew, that was no good news. Merlin, way to go Sirius, way to be a good godfather. A good friend. Maybe he'd deserve to do a spin in Azkaban.

Sirius bit harshly into the flesh of his inner cheek until he tasted blood. No. He wasn't going to let James and Lily's death go unpunished and leave their son lost somewhere with an aunt that despised anything close to magical.

"Honestly, I expected worse."

Sirius jumped, knocking his shoulder into the wall as he stood up in the cramped cell. Someone stood by the small space that a previous lodger might have tried to call a window. Said someone was a tall individual, wearing a dark suit with a white shirt and ginger curls half-hiding green eyes and scarred lips.

"Tom?" Sirius tried to exclaim as he recognised the other.

"Don't take it the wrong way kid, but you sound awful," the redhead replied with a face, taking Sirius' hands without asking to open the chains, " Agorwyr chi ."

With a spark and a light electric shock, the metal fell down. Strangely enough, Sirius was speechless. Thomas Alden was a wizard in the same way mist was water. No wands. No age. Human, or had been one at some point. And yet, the only reason they knew each other was a failed ritual. Some stupid idea of both him and James that Peter and Remus had begrudgingly followed. They were supposed to invoke a spirit, just something to get new ideas to help with full moons. That ghost had been very vivid, a cocktail in one hand, a smoke between their lips and a very confused look on his face at the four teenagers staring at them.

"Mates, I ain't going to sugar-coat it. Either you're very good, or you need to drop the medium bullshit."

Somehow, it had still been helpful. When you meet who's been alive for three-hundred years give or take a decade or two, and you somehow manage to befriend them, you learn a few tips. The Marauders had only learnt about their reputation in the wizarding world years later, once they were out of Hogwarts. But it was hard to keep in touch with something as illusive as an immortal, like trying to catch mist in a bottle.

"Hey kid, are you listening to me?"

Sirius shook his head.

"No," he honestly replied, still confused, "How are you even here?"

Tom rolled their eyes, drawing a sigil in charcoal on the wall.

"Since when am I supposed to be stopped by a door and couple spells? Come on, I'm taking you home."

Before Sirius could reply, the redhead grabbed his upper arm and, in a whistling sound and the howling of wind, through the wall they went. It was a similar feeling to apparating but the void threw you around like waves against the shores. 

After the darkness of his cell and the lack of any kind of light during their short travel, the golden light of the living room was a blinding sun.

"Merlin's beard! Sirius!"

It took a moment for the latter to realise that the voice was his cousin Andromeda's. His brain seemed to think it was the right time to turn blank. He took a couple steps forward, dropping in the sofa. This was a hungover without any of the fun.

"I can try a bit of healing if needed," Tom suggested, watching as Andromeda brought burning hot tea, placing a mug between Sirius' hands without asking for the latter's opinion.

"I'll be fine, eventually," Sirius replied, "Thanks, both of you."

Even though he was all for taking unnecessary risks, he knew enough to stay clear of the redhead's magic. Wands and potions, he knew. That was something else. Tom didn't get a chance to argue his case, as the door opened.

"Ah, I thought I'd heard you-"

Sirius almost dropped the cup he was holding. Remus was staring at him from the door, lips parted, halfway through his sentence. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what Remus knew. The war had taken its toll on them as well. Did he think Sirius had betrayed James and Lily? That he had murdered Peter with twelve other people? He watched in a daze as Remus walked towards him, he didn't move when he was pulled harshly to his feet, his mind running through everything he could try and say, to explain, to apologise, to-

Remus' lips crashed onto his. Silence fell. It took a few second for Sirius to understand what was going on, but only one to pull Remus closer, his hands clinging to messy hair and that old jumper as if they were a lifeline. When Remus eventually moved back, it was only for Sirius to pull him right back, ignoring the few drops of hot tea spilling from his cup onto his skin.

"Next time you get arrested, try to warn me first, alright?" Remus whispered between parted lips, letting his forehead fall against Sirius'.

The latter only smiled, unable to muster anything else.

"I'm just glad they didn't spill tea on my rug, honestly," Andromeda said, breaking their moment, her hands on her hips and a fond look on her face.

Tom chuckled.

"Nothing a bit of magic wouldn't fix, right?"

Remus took a step back, letting Sirius sit, though 'fall' might have been a better word, back on the sofa. The werewolf then turned to look at Tom, and all the gentleness he had had with Sirius was gone in a matter of seconds:

"Not that I'm not happy to see Sirius, but how are we going to prove his innocent if you took him out of his cell?!"

The redhead seemed confused, their eyes going from Sirius to Andromeda and finally, back on Remus.

"Wait, he's innocent?"

Remus swore under his breath while Andromeda just stared at them, dumbfounded:

"Why do you think we called you?"

"To break him out!" Tom replied, "You said he was locked up, so-"

Sirius, who was until now just trying to recover from the cumulation of recent events, looked up from his mug:

"Wait, you think I killed those people?" he asked slowly, and Tom's heart broke just by hearing the strain in the young man's voice.

"Oh, sweetheart..." the immortal sighed, watching as Remus sat beside his partner and took his hand, "I'm old, I come from a different time, my moral scale is a bloody tripping hazard. Your best friend had just died and, well, I would be the last to judge you for a rampaging mental breakdown."

Sirius shook his head. He couldn't blame Tom for thinking he had killed people after James and Lily's death. After all, they didn’t seem to have all the details.

"It's alright, you're obviously not the only one thinking so," he waved away the redhead's apology before looking at Remus, "Peter was the secret keeper. I told James and Lily to pick him, instead of one of us. I fucked up, Remus. And instead of owning up to it and taking care of Harry, I agreed to let Hagrid take him to Dumbledore and went to try- I don't even know what I tried to do," he pursued, briefly losing track of his thoughts before taking a deep breath to focus his attention once more, "I swear on whatever I still have, I had no hand in the spell that killed those muggles. Peter used it to fake his death, I saw him cut one of his own fingers and change into Wormtail."

For a second, everyone stayed silent, the only answer Remus made was to pull Sirius closer against him.

"Fear will drive one to become the worst of humanity," Tom muttered, dropping in one of the two armchairs facing the sofa.

"I can't believe he would do that, you were so close..." Andromeda shook her head, doing the same, "We have to make sure everyone learns the truth, even if You-Know-Who truly is gone."

Remus nodded:

"That's why I sent Tom an owl to begin with. With Crouch and Bagnold, we need to make sure Sirius gets a trial."

"Can't really go on the run if I want Harry's custody," the brunet confirmed, "But given the cell I was in, I can tell you they just want to send me to Azkaban and be done with it. Maybe we can ask Dumbledore-"

Tom's laughter interrupted him, but it was no joyful laugh. The redhead's green eyes were dull, their teeth too sharp as they spoke:

"Forget about him. He's been in and out of the Ministry since Voldemort's gone and he hasn't done a thing. Hell, his strategy skills are bad enough that one of his own students tried to take over your society. If you truly want his help, you need to force his hand. Make it public. War isn't over for you."

"Easier said than done," Sirius sighed, letting his head drop against Remus' shoulder.

A moment of silence passed, only broken by the old clock ticking.

"So, should I get you back to your cell, or?" Tom eventually said, letting their sentence unfinished for the others to complete.

Andromeda chuckled softly:

"Good luck trying to get Sirius away from Remus anytime soon."

Sirius looked up, only to see how tired his partner was. Sure, Moony had his usual faint smile on his lips. But the circles under his eyes were darker, his face thinner. You would have thought the full moon had been the day before. They had lost enough. With a sigh, Sirius straightened his back.

"What do we need to do?"

Tom gave his determination an impressed nod.

"Force Crouch's hand into giving you a trial. I'll stay with you in your cell. The Ministry hates me and that way even Dumbledore won't be able to sweep the problem –sorry– under the rug."

"Meanwhile, I will spread the word within the Order. They'll believe us more easily than if you were alone," Remus pursued with a light frown, "It shouldn't be too hard to find a lawyer that will agree to take the case given how public it will be."

"And I know enough people in newspapers to make sure the Gazette won't be trouble," Andromeda nodded, turning her now empty cup of tea between her fingers.

"And once this is over, I'm taking Harry home." Sirius concluded.

Tom grinned:

"Now that's what we like to hear. I'll take us back in a minute, but you could use a shower and some food beforehand, don't you think?"

They were barely done with their suggestion that both Remus and Andromeda were up on their feet, the first pushing Sirius towards the bathroom while the second enlisted Thomas to the kitchen.

On the third day of Sirius Black's imprisonment, Gawain Robards and his colleagues preceded the arrival of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The building was so old and held so many secrets that none of them were surprised to find someone else waiting by the cell's door. Well, that wasn't quite true. Someone, recognising the man, gasped. Robards wasn't impressed and simply sighed:

"Alright, whose boggart is this?"

Sirius laughed. Tom smiled, a bright, sharp smile, as he moved closer to the aurors.

"Aw, do I still scare the British Wizarding world so much?" he said, observing the men, "Maybe it's time I remind the Ministry why."

Chapter Text

If Sirius had been in a different position, he would have found this situation amusing. There was something quite satisfying in seeing ministry workers freaking out because of him and Tom’s behaviour. Even though the latter had only mentioned ‘a couple spells’, the cells used by aurors were about as secured as Azkaban itself (minus the Dementors), which made the redhead’s apparition quite stressful to anyone remotely aware of that fact. To be fair, neither Sirius nor Tom made it easier. They had an agenda, after all, which needed them to make as much noise as they could. And if there was something louder than a three-hundred years old with a deficient attention span, it was Sirius Black, his poor impulse control and his need to do whatever it would take to fix his mistakes.

“Would Remus be mad if we gave someone a heart attack?” Tom asked, watching with interest how Robards tried to usher everyone out of the room (a job quite difficult as the redhead had turned the ground into ice a few seconds ago).

“Depends to whom but I wouldn’t risk it just yet. I’d like to avoid his jinxes and keep my hair at the right length and colour,” Sirius replied, pacing along the cell’s bars as he waited for some kind of authority figure to finally show up, hopefully before Tom got too bored and decided the British Wizarding World needed a (possibly bloody) change in management.

“He wouldn’t dare,” the oldest said, glancing at the wizard.

The latter made a face, as if remembering a painful memory:

“Trust me, he would.”

“Your boyfriend scares me, love,” the redhead chuckled, his laugh disappearing below the sound of the door slamming against the wall. 

All surprise had disappeared from Robards’ face now that he was alone with them. He looked simply furious, his face redder than Tom’s curls. In a second, he closed the distance between the door and the cell, the ice breaking under his steps, until he stood inches from its bars.

“What is the meaning of this, Black?” he snarled, under Sirius’ unimpressed gaze.

“You tell me, I’m still waiting for a proper trial,” the latter replied, pushing a calm demeanour on his clenched teeth. 

Robards scoffed.

“You murdered twelve muggles and a wizard, do you really believe you would be done the honour of a trial?” he retorted, “Your kind only deserves to rot in Azkaban.”

Tom whistled, taking a step forward to lean his back against the metal bars:

“Someone’s mad. Tell me, young man,” 

Gawain Robards showed a brief frown. The redhead looked about his age, if not younger.

“What proof do you have that Sirius Black killed those people?”

“Maybe the fact that your ‘friend’ was the sole survivor amongst body parts and rubbles?” Robards growled in annoyance.

Sirius winced, the smell of smoke and burnt flesh easily coming back to his mind. Robards had a point. His first instinct had been to protect himself, as always. Tom wasn’t as impressed.

“What proof do you have that he cast the spell which caused the damage?”

Gawain frowned.

“Like I said, he-”

“-was the sole survivor you found.” Tom interrupted him, “Did you test his wand to make sure it had been the origin of the spell?”

That question fed again Robards’ confidence and he smiled, though his arms remained crossed on his chest:

“Don’t you people know what Deletrius is?”

“I wasn’t-” Sirius began, only for the redhead to stop him.

“Just because I am no wizard does not mean I’m unfamiliar with your magic. However, if Sirius Black was the only wizard found alive at the scene, casting the spell you mention would have shown it as the only registered spell.”

As he finished his sentence, the door opened on a middle-aged woman in a perfectly put suit, that Sirius immediately recognised to be Millicent Bagnold, minister of Magic. She looked about as mad as Robards, but unluckily for him, her cold eyes were staring hardly at him.

“You may leave Mr. Robards, we will discuss this obvious security breach later with Mr. Crouch,” she began, holding the door opened for the auror. 

“Ma’am, I can’t possibly leave you alone, this man-”

“Bold of you to assume I still fit your human standards,” Tom muttered, though he had to admit, he did act as a man at the moment.

“Do you presume to tell me what I can or cannot do?” Bagnold retorted, ignoring the others and staring down Robards.

The latter straightened his back.

“No, ma’am.”

He glared one last time at Sirius and Tom, before leaving the room. Once the door was closed, the minister moved closer to the cell.

“Now, will one of you please explain what this disturbance is about?”

“Well, that kid is innocent and I’d therefore like to keep him out of the nightmare you call a prison,” Tom curtly replied, and Sirius could tell the redhead was growing bored of the situation.

“This is war, Alden, you have no right to interfere in our politics,” the minister retorted.

“I wouldn’t have to interfere if your wizarding world didn’t do so many idiotic things,” Tom snapped, “This is your second evil wizard overlord in what? Forty years? Fifty? Maybe it would be time to realise there is a systemic problem going on there.” 

“I’ve spent the last year fighting in that war along your people, even the Death Eaters that have been captured deserve a trial, and Merlin knows there’s some I would love to kill myself if given the opportunity,” Sirius pursued, trying to keep the anger out of his voice as he spoke. 

He had never been the Ministry’s biggest fan –how could he? His partner was a werewolf– but he had put those issues aside during the conflict. According to the Order, they couldn’t afford to be divided, no matter how much he had wanted to punch some politicians’ lights out. 

“So you want a trial,” Bagnold said, turning to Sirius, “for every person arrested on the same charges as you. And you want, what? A reform? A revolution?” 

Tom smirked.

“I would agree to either, but I’m afraid I’m in quite the hurry. I’ll be satisfied by seeing your ministry’s justice properly used.”

Sirius agreed that a revolution did sound very nice. But they couldn’t afford another conflict just yet.

When Mary had found Remus on her doorstep, she had half expected another terrible news, even though the world around them seemed lost in celebrations. It didn't help that, just like her, Remus bore grief in his eyes.

“Please tell me no one else died?” she said bleakly, moving aside to let him come in.

Remus wasn't surprised to notice she already had her wand in her hand. Their paranoia would most likely remain for a few years, if not forever.

“Not that I'm aware of,” he only answered at first, following her inside, “How much do you know about Sirius' arrest?”

Mary stopped, turning to face him. Remus held his breath. She had lost those closest to her. Dorcas, Marlene and now Lily. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if she told him to fuck right off. She deserved to grieve.

“Barely anything. I've more or less been benched when it comes to him,” the auror replied, “But I know enough to see he was the only one who could've betrayed James and Lily. James wouldn't have chosen anyone else as his secret keeper, right?” she pursued, though her voice remained strangely emotionless.

Remus couldn't blame her, just like he couldn't have blamed Tom the night before. The same thoughts had crossed his mind too.

“James and Lily chose him, but he told them to pick Peter,” he explained, “Andromeda and I spoke to him, he says Peter was the secret keeper and that he faked his death through the explosion which killed those muggles.”

Mary's frown had darkened and she crossed her arms on her chest.

“It's easy to blame a dead man. How did you even talk to Sirius?”

Remus made a face:

“I might have found a way to contact Tom.”

The young woman's mouth fell open. Oh, she knew who that was. Anyone who knew Alphard Black and Sirius well enough to call the latter a friend had at least heard of Thomas. Mary had even met her, more than a few times, and kept of her the image of an excentric woman, usually with a glass of alcohol or a smoke in one hand, always happy to show them teenagers some strange spell that put stars in their eyes. A fun, aunt-like, figure that they all knew to be an outsider to their world.

“But Dumbledore said-” she began, only for Remus to cut her short.

“I know he told us not to contact them during the war but according to everyone else, war is over,” he said, wincing at the harshness in his voice, “and I'm done losing people.”

Mary sat silently on one of the kitchen's chair. She understood Remus' anger but these days, she just felt too tired to care, to be angry.

“What about Harry? Minerva just told me he was safe, I assumed he would be with you, since Sirius is, well, in jail.”

“With Lily's sister,” Remus replied and, as her head shot up at his words, he immediately pursued, “We don't plan on letting him stay there, obviously. The moment Sirius is cleared, I guess we'll go for a custody battle,” he humourlessly chuckled.

There was a hint of a smile which pulled Mary's lips.

“That, I can get behind,” she slowly said, “I'm guessing you don't plan on breaking Sirius out, then?”

Remus made a face:

“We kind of already did?” he began, “Well, Tom did it last night and then went back with him to strong-arm the minister into giving him a proper trial.”

Mary stared at him in silence before laughing, a gentle chuckle that almost felt new on her lips.

“James would be proud,” she replied, with a faint hint of teasing in her voice, “Breaking Sirius out of jail just to send him back, well done.”

Remus' smile was a tired one, but at least it was there.

“Does that mean you believe us?”

He didn't expect a clean cut answer. She only had his word to hold onto. She hadn't seen Sirius' state.

“I don't know Remus,” Mary sighed, twisting the edge of her sleeve between her fingers, “I really don't. But I do believe he deserves a trial, and I want Harry back with us and out of that bitch's house.”

The view in the cell would have surprised anyone that was not Albus Dumbledore. Sirius and Tom were sitting on the bench and, on the other side, Millicent Bagnold had conjured a chair for herself, the three conversing as if there weren't thick metal bars between them. Thomas was the first one to notice the oldest wizard, and a smile appeared on their lips.

“How kind of you to join us, Albus.”

The older wizard nodded, the usual wistfulness of his look almost giving Sirius a sense of familiarity. Almost.

“Good morning madam Minister, Thomas, Sirius,” the grey-haired man, crossing his hands behind his back, “Mr. Crouch had the kindness to tell me I might find you here.”

“I can’t imagine he was very happy to hear his open-shut case has been delayed,” Sirius couldn’t help but mock.

Bagnold ignored the brunet, turning her entire attention on Dumbledore as she stood up to face him.

“I could use your opinion there, professor,” she began, keeping a watchful eye on the two others, “As you might have heard, Alden has taken quite the interest in Mr. Black’s case and I’m starting to wonder whether our investigation has been as thorough as it should have been.”

Tom bit into their lower lip, barely preventing a ‘no shit, Sherlock’ from being said out loud.

“As you’ve known Mr. Black for a decade, do you believe there is a necessity for a trial?” the brunette pursued, crossing her arms on her perfectly put jacket.

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, his eyes gliding on Sirius and the latter could have sworn he was trying to read into his mind. As a member of the Order, he had worked somewhat closely to Hogwarts’ headmaster (well, as closely as one could be to Albus Dumbledore at least) and yet, for the first time, he felt uneasy in his presence.

“Well, I believe that justice should always be carried out with the utmost carefulness,” the headmaster began, “Your ministry has let the public know the war is over, thus, I would say that our justice system can take the time to examine properly this case.”

“I would even add that Sirius Black’s unlawful imprisonment without proper charge during peaceful time would earn him a release under whatever spell you may keep to stop him from doing, well, anything you would judge dangerous I presume,” Tom added, standing up from the bench and brushing whatever dust might have ended up on their suit.

“I was not aware you had an interest in our justice system, Thomas,” Albus nodded, with was seemed to be approval in his eyes.

Yet, a mere glance from Sirius to Tom’s face and he quickly understood the redhead did not perceive it as such, their lips pressed into a thin smile.

“What can I say? I arrived too late to be involved in your war strategy,” Tom shrugged before turning their green eyes on Bagnold, “Have we reached an agreement then, minister?”

They barely managed to keep the irritation out of their face when they noticed the way Millicent’s face had snapped back to Dumbledore’s, half expecting her to ask him for his permission.

“You’re not exactly someone I would trust with Mr. Black’s safekeeping,” the brunette replied to Sirius’ despair.

He was getting tired of negotiating. Thomas patted his shoulder, but their eyes didn’t leave the two others.

“Why, we could always perform a, what is it you call it already? An unbreakable vow!” they suggested, “But it would most likely be worthless with me. However, I’m sure you have enough faith in professor Dumbledore to trust someone who fought alongside him to walk with one of your ministry’s tracking spell until his undoubtedly close first hearing for his trial, don’t you?”

Sirius was rather certain Thomas did not have any power of persuasion, or anything remotely close to hypnosis but he came very close to believing so as he noticed the barely perceptible nod in Bagnold’s gestures. And yet, it was Dumbledore who replied:

“I believe Thomas is right, and I am prepared to take full responsibility on their behalf if something were to happen.”

The minister stayed quiet for a moment before pulling out her wand and opening the cell’s door.

“Very well, I will hold you both to your word. Your wrist, please, Mr. Black.”

“Stop scratching it, you’re only going to make it worse,” Remus warned gently, making sure the bandage around Sirius’ wrist wouldn’t move, no matter how much his partner seemed decided in ripping it away at the smallest move.

Sirius made a face, letting his head fall against the tallest’s shoulder.

“’m sorry,” he only said, his eyes staring through the closed window on the rain falling outside.

Thomas had got them in a safehouse in the blink of an eye (and a literal puff of smoke). It was an old industrial warehouse that had been entirely refurnished into some mad artist or librarian’s fever dream. Remus and Mary had already been there for a while with Andromeda, though his cousin had been busy talking to a journalist friend through his patronus. They were now seating on an old leather sofa which stood, facing a large window and a painted piano, in the middle of messy bookshelves. Tom wasn’t far away, seating at a desk with Mary, both going through old leather books which Sirius suspected to be about Wizarding laws. Sirius had vaguely heard them talking in hushed voices while Remus insisted on bandaging the burning red mark which circled his wrist.

“Don’t be cariad , I’m just glad that Bagnold agreed to let you out, even if it took Dumbledore and a tracking spell,” Remus sighed, ruffling Sirius’ black locks which only served to have the latter lean further against him.

“I still don’t trust him, no matter how far I could throw him,” Tom muttered with a light frown, their eyes still focused on the pages they were studying.

“He took our side though,” Sirius added, tearing himself away from Remus’ arms, glancing back at Andy who had just entered the room, “Why don’t you trust him?”

Thomas slammed the book shut, the sound making the others flinch.

“Because that fucking madman told you not to warn me, and now your friends, children , are dead. And him? He’s still alive, not even badly injured. If there is one thing I’ve learnt by living through too many conflicts for my taste is that you never, never , trust a survivor until you’ve learnt how they saw another dawn.”