Chapter Text
NOVEMBER 1, 1981- 8:00 PM - ???
“Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?”
“You filthy piece of scum! I’ll kill you!”
A burst of light rippled across the busy London street for one brief moment, just before the explosion ripped it apart. Those who had not gotten caught in the blast or fallen through the newly formed crater stood around in shock, with bits of debris and blood caught in their clothes and hair. Then the air erupted with the sound of screams.
NOVEMBER 16, 1981- 10:00 PM - DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT
Bartemius Crouch was not the kind of man who kept a person waiting in the traditional sense of the word. He arranged every appointment and court case on a color-coded schedule, regardless of whether it would last for hours or only fifteen minutes. When his subordinate, Miles Edgeworth, arrived at his office, he had his desk cleared and sat at attention. One would never have guessed that he’d spent the day interrogating suspected Death Eaters or sitting through trial after trial in the Wizengamot. Not a hair strayed out of place and his eyes remained just as alert as they’d been at the start of the workday.
Nonetheless, Edgeworth knew exactly how much importance the Head of Magical Law Enforcement placed on their meeting when Crouch scheduled it for 10:00 in the evening.
“Good evening, Mr. Edgeworth,” he began, in his typical curt tone, “Why did you wish to meet with me?”
Edgeworth smirked. Their legal strategies might differ wildly, but they did have one thing in common: they both preferred to get straight to the point. “I have some concerns about the direction that our department has taken as of late.”
“Is that so?” Crouch’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of concerns would trouble someone with your esteemed reputation?” As if I don’t know. As if he hasn’t made his disdain known throughout the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Call a man a prodigy, give him enough awards to clutter his desk before he even turns thirty, and he thinks he’s the king of prosecutors…
In response to the question, Edgeworth removed the latest edition of The Daily Prophet from his briefcase. The headline declared: BLACK SENTENCED TO LIFE IMPRISONMENT IN AZKABAN. “It says here that you sent him to prison without a trial by the Wizengamot.”
He let the sentence hang there. Crouch neither blinked nor shifted in his seat. “Black is not the first person to receive that sentence. Nor will he be the last. I see no reason to waste the Wizengamot’s time on an open-and-shut case when we have new witches and wizards to prosecute by the day.”
“From what I’ve heard, Black still claims to be innocent.”
Crouch snorted. “So you believe the words of a mass murderer over mine?”
“Certainly not,” Edgeworth replied. “I agree that all of the evidence points to Black. Be that as it may, we have certain principles to uphold. Every person accused of a crime deserves a fair trial. Sirius Black is no different.”
“It’s all very well to speak of lofty ideals in peacetime, but need I remind you that we are in the middle of a war with the Dark Arts, Mr. Edgeworth?” Crouch drummed his fingers against the wood of his desk. “This department does not have the time or the resources to do what you are suggesting. I thank you for your input on this matter. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business to attend to.” He removed a sheaf of papers from his desk and focused his attention on the top page, without actually absorbing the words written on it.
Edgeworth did not move from his seat. “So, it does not bother you if we lower ourselves to the standards of the Death Eaters?”
Crouch placed the papers back on his desk, slowly raising his head with a glare that could have melted the Fountain of Magical Brethren. “Let me ask you a question, Miles Edgeworth. What could you possibly expect to accomplish from a trial for Sirius Black? The only eyewitnesses to the crime- over fifty of them, mind you- happened to be Muggles. Their testimonies have been collected and their memories modified. They cannot be interrogated again. We would simply go over all of the information that we already have in a different room.”
Edgeworth wagged a finger at him. Crouch closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them. That man certainly has nerve. If I can find a way to demote him, I will.
“Consider this, Mr. Crouch: what if Black speaks the truth? That would mean that the true killer is still stalking through London. Do you expect people to praise you if you allow such a person to slip through your fingers?”
“How many more murderers would slip through my fingers if I chased down every wild theory that came across my desk concerning one man and one case? Albus Dumbledore himself has testified against Sirius Black. He does not need a trial. Thank you, and good evening, Mr. Edgeworth.”
At this statement, Edgeworth’s hands formed into fists in his lap. “I am not speaking only in regards to Sirius Black. I am speaking of every single person that you have sent to the dementors without a proper investigation or defense!”
Crouch tightened his grip on the papers in his own hands and his eyes flickered to the clock on his desk. Ten minutes wasted arguing with the so-called prodigy, ten minutes that he could have spent doing something productive. “Do you want me to summon each and every person back from Azkaban? Would you care to face the magical community and explain yourself if one of those people were let out on a technicality and returned to committing crimes in the name of the Dark Arts?”
“I merely want the truth to be known, whether it leads to a guilty or not guilty verdict.”
“Very well. If I cannot convince you myself, perhaps this calls for an alternative course of action.” Edgeworth did not visibly react; he merely continued to listen. “I will give you one trial with a defendant that I have personally declared guilty. You and I will both act as inquisitors, so that you can see for yourself why such proceedings would be a waste of time and resources. If the Wizengamot still finds the defendant guilty of his or her crimes, you will agree to drop the matter entirely.”
Edgeworth nodded. “And if the defendant should be found not guilty, you will agree to suspend your current course of action and give each of the suspected Death Eaters their own fair trials?”
“Yes.” Not that Crouch found that outcome very likely. “Why not the man that prompted this discussion: Sirius Black?”
Edgeworth never so much as flinched at the suggestion. Perhaps he’d intended for this to be the case all along. For the life of him, Crouch could not figure out why. Did the testimony of fifty eyewitnesses mean nothing to the man?
“If that is who you have chosen, then Sirius Black it shall be. And I agree to serve as one of the inquisitors. So, who did you have in mind for his defense?”
“I cannot think of a single witch or wizard who would want to defend him, unless it were to promote the continued use of the Dark Arts.”
Silence fell as each man waited for the other to suggest someone. At last, Edgeworth rose to his feet. “I will think about the matter and come up with some names by tomorrow. I trust you will do the same. Good evening, Mr. Crouch.”
Crouch waited until he’d shut the door before muttering, “Yes, good evening, Mr. Edgeworth. Thank you for wasting my time further than you already have.”
Edgeworth took the lift back to the Atrium, still bustling with Ministry employees working overtime. What little that he could hear from the snatches of conversation all centered around the Sirius Black case.
Thirteen people murdered with a single curse. The perpetrator laughing at the destruction as Aurors led him away. Whispers that he’d not only served as a spy for Voldemort, but had also secretly acted as his right-hand man. All of the evidence pointed towards Black, and yet…
Edgeworth shook his head. He didn’t have anything concrete to go on, only vague suspicions about the evidence that the Ministry collected. Some things simply didn’t add up. If nothing else, the victims and their families deserved a full investigation of the incident, even if the majority of them happened to be Muggles who could no longer recall exactly what they witnessed.
That still left the matter of who could possibly serve as Black’s defense attorney. And there was only one defense team whom Edgeworth trusted to get the job done. Whether or not they agreed to take the case would be another matter entirely.
“Sir?”
Edgeworth blinked. The line of Ministry employees waiting to use Floo Powder had disappeared, leaving a huge gap between him and the fireplace. “My apologies,” he told the people behind him, before stepping into the fireplace himself.
Once he arrived at his home, he set down his briefcase and sank into the nearest armchair. Perhaps he’d done the right thing, but this trial was going to be a massive headache.