"What is so special about a mere fugitive that it's drawn the attention of a Speaker, if you don't mind me asking?"
Rufus Scrimgeour was the first to speak after Maverick had explained the reason for their gathering. Beside him, Bones and Shacklebolt appeared to be thinking the same thing, glancing curiously in Maverick's direction.
"I'm glad you asked," Maverick replied. "But before I answer, Rufus, would you mind telling us what you think of Sirius Black—and the case against him back then?"
The veteran Auror furrowed his brow at that. It was clear this young man didn't quite agree with how the case had been handled. Still, who was he to object? Even if it was the Ministry—or the Auror Office, which he currently led—that was being called into question, a Speaker had full authority to ask such things, even under legal grounds. There was nothing improper about it.
So, he answered.
He laid out everything he knew about the case from those days. Naturally, he hadn't been in charge of the department back then, and what he knew was more or less the same as what the public had been told. And since the matter had long been buried by the time he took over, he hadn't seen any reason to dig through what might still lie hidden in the files.
It took him about ten minutes to go over everything he remembered. But by the end, his confidence had clearly begun to waver. As he spoke, the holes in the case became more obvious.
There had been no trial. The witnesses were few and unreliable. And most importantly, there was no formal confession from Sirius Black, just claims that he had been laughing madly when they found him. That alone had somehow been taken as proof of guilt.
"Thank you, Rufus," Maverick said once Scrimgeour finished recounting everything. He let a pause settle before sweeping his gaze across the room. "Now then... I don't think I need to point out how all of that sounds like a bad joke, do I?"
"So what?" Amelia, seemingly unable to hold something in, snapped all of a sudden. "Why now, then? What's he hoping to gain by breaking out after all these years? And if he wasn't guilty, what was the point of staying silent all this time?"
She raised question after question, her emotion going a bit wild, and watching her, Maverick was pretty sure what Lupin said the other day must be true to some extent.
"Jameson…" Maverick ignored her tantrum and gestured to Lord Greengrass to his right, who retrieved three stacks of papers and passed them to the three of them.
"What is this?" asked Kingsley as he read the headline.
From Ministry to Mogul: Arthur Weasley Poached by Master Alchemist for Key Role!
"The picture, gentlemen— and you, Madam Bones— is the answer to your abrupt questions," Maverick said, pointing. "Why would a man, apparently guilty of having his supposed best friends killed, suddenly decide to break out of prison after so many years?"
He then pointed to the rat the boy in the middle was holding. "This rodent has been their pet for twelve years. That's an awfully long time for a rat, don't you think? Rats typically live no more than two years, and even the domesticated ones rarely make it past four. So what could possibly explain this one living almost three times longer?"
"Animagus!" the three of them blurted out at the same time.
Maverick smiled slightly at their quick deduction.
"But who?" Scrimgeour frowned skeptically. "Are the Weasleys even aware of this?"
Kingsley shook his head. "I do not recall any official record of a rat Animagus in Ministry files, Director. If this one exists, it's likely an illegal one."
"Oh, it does exist..." Maverick said with a faint smile, gesturing once again to Lord Greengrass.
Lord Greengrass nodded in acknowledgment and rose from his seat. "Please, follow me," he said before leading the way toward the door.
Lady Greengrass and Maverick stood as well, and after exchanging nods, Bones, Shacklebolt, and Scrimgeour followed suit.
They passed through winding corridors until they reached a small, dimly lit room. In the center, resting on a polished wooden pedestal, was a shallow, stone basin carved with runes and symbols. Soft, pale blue light swirled within it like a gentle mist, constantly shifting and curling in delicate tendrils.
"A Pensieve?" Scrimgeour asked, stepping inside cautiously.
Lord Greengrass nodded. "Please allow me to share a memory with you. To ensure nothing is fabricated, I will withdraw it here in front of you."
He raised his wand and gently touched the side of his forehead, closing his eyes. A faint shimmer appeared beneath his skin, and slowly, a silvery, thread-like substance flowed from his temple. It drifted gracefully through the air before sinking into the swirling depths of the alchemical masterpiece.
With subtle movements of his wand, he guided the shimmering thread until it disappeared beneath the surface, stirring the misty memories within. And finally, when the last thread slipped inside, the object pulsed a little brighter—ready to reveal what it held.
"Just to clarify... what you're about to witness happened not long ago," Maverick said, glancing at the three of them. "And it should answer all your doubts about the whole Sirius Black case, from start to finish."
He gestured towards the Pensieve, inviting them to begin.
The shallow basin shimmered with pale, swirling light. Its wide size allowed multiple people to lean in at once, so after exchanging brief nods—first with one another, then with Maverick to show they understood—Bones, Scrimgeour, and Shacklebolt stepped forward and then leaned in.
One by one, they dipped their heads into the mist.
The memory Lord Greengrass retrieved captured the full sequence of events that had unfolded just the other day—beginning from the moment Lupin and Sirius were brought in to see the very much alive Peter Pettigrew.
It showed their entrance, the heavy tension in the room, the heated interrogation, and finally, Pettigrew's breaking point as he confessed to everything. Even the brutal aftermath, when the truth came crashing down and tempers flared, was laid bare in detail.
Maverick had instructed Lord Greengrass beforehand to include everything as it was, without tampering—though that wasn't something a mage of his calibre could even manage, even if he'd wanted to.
While Bones, Scrimgeour, and Shacklebolt reviewed the memories, Maverick waited patiently nearby, with Lord and Lady Greengrass standing on either side of him. None of them spoke—until, after a minute or so later, Lady Greengrass leaned slightly and asked quietly:
"Do you think they'll believe it, Leader? Will it be enough to bring them into the plan?"
"Believe it? Of course they will," Maverick answered her as a faint smile tugged at his lips. His eyes remained on the trio, who had their heads bowed over the Pensieve, then he added, "Not immediately, no… but eventually. People don't accept the truth when it's shoved down their throats. They need to reach it on their own—one step at a time."
"And that's why you haven't shown them Pettigrew yet? Or brought Sirius Black to meet them, for that matter?" she asked, sounding like she was piecing it together but not quite there.
Maverick finally turned his head toward her. "More or less..." he said. Then, turning back, he added, "You saw Amelia earlier—how she lost her composure. If I'd brought Sirius in front of her, she would've hexed him without a second thought."
"Yes, I could've stopped her. I could've forced them all to sit and listen—bring Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black to the table, shove Veritaserum down their throats, and make them hear the whole truth. Make them believe. But tell me, what would that make me in their eyes?"
Lady Greengrass hesitated. "Strong?"
Maverick gave a soft, amused laugh. "Strong? My lady, strength has never been in question. They know who I am. You know. Everyone knows I'm an Archmage. There isn't a soul in London who'd dare challenge me to a duel."
His voice lowered a notch as he continued.
"But I'm not trying to conquer them with fear or overwhelm them with power. I'm showing restraint... deliberately. Because the kind of strength that wins true loyalty isn't raw force. It's the strength to hold back, even when you could crush everything in your path."
Then, as a memory stirred of another fellow who had once tried something similar, long ago, he continued.
"You remember the last man who tried to win over the wizarding elite, don't you? He had power. Influence. Gold pouring from every vault. Even the motto he stood by wasn't all that bad, if I'm being honest—for the greater good." He let out a quiet chuckle. "And yet… he chose fear. Brutality. He wanted obedience, not trust. In the end, even his lover turned on him. And the world made sure he burned for it."
There was a short pause, before he added, voice firmer now.
"That said, I'm not here to play the victim. I don't mind being questioned... when the doubt is honest, when the concern is real. I'll answer it. Clarify it. Even change course, if reason demands it."
Having said that, he glanced at the two of them from the corner of his eye to see their reactions. Lady Greengrass looked like she had more or less grasped his meaning, while her husband seemed somewhat reluctant to accept all of it. So Maverick turned to him directly.
"What? Do you think I'm being too lenient? Or that I'm turning into another Dumbledore... handing out second chances to anyone who questions me?"
"I… Leader… I didn't say that…" the older man stammered, gulping when Maverick flashed him a grin just a fraction too wide.
Maverick chuckled, turned back to the Pensieve, and when he continued, his voice dropped a notch lower.
"Don't get me wrong, Jameson. If someone dares to question me with an agenda… if they try to twist the truth of what I'm trying to build for their own selfish gain… then make no mistake... I will break them. Permanently."
Lady Greengrass glanced between her husband and their leader during the exchange, thoughts racing through her mind. There were still plenty of things she wanted to ask, beyond the question she had raised earlier—doubts she and her husband had often discussed behind closed doors but never dared to say aloud.
Until now, they had kept those thoughts to themselves. But now, after hearing what he had just said about not minding being questioned, she thought there was no reason to hesitate — she should voice them.
Otherwise, wouldn't that make him—this young man she and her husband now considered their leader—a hypocrite? She didn't want to believe that. Even if only to prove the point to herself, she spoke up again, voicing the biggest concern about their grand plan.
"My leader, about convincing people with virtue, as you just mentioned," Lady Greengrass said carefully, "may I ask—how do you plan to convince Albus Dumbledore to follow along? And the two Greatmages at Hogwarts... Minerva and Filius?"
Nehahaha!
Maverick burst out laughing.
"My lady," he said, turning to her, "I didn't take you for someone fond of Eastern proverbs."
He shook his head amusedly. "Indeed, that wise old monster... Sooner or later, I'm sure he'll realise I'm aiming to topple the Statute of Secrecy—then, for some inexplicable reason, he'll probably start thinking I'm the second coming of his old lover."
He clicked his tongue. "Since it all begins at Hogwarts, I can't expect to keep him in the dark for long. However—" a smile tugged at his lips as he thought of the last resort he had in mind for Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Turning to the lady, he added, "—to convince a wise old monster, my lady, I'll simply have to bring forth a much wiser, much older monster. I'd like to see him cling to his ideals when faced with a being out of legend."
"Legend?" she asked, eyebrows knitting. "I'm sorry... I don't follow."
And just then, Maverick's eyes flicked to the Pensieve.
"Hmm... it seems our friends have finished reviewing your memories, Jameson."
Unfortunately for Lady Greengrass, that was all the answer she would get—for now. Across the room, Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Rufus Scrimgeour were rising from the Pensieve, each wearing the same stunned expression of someone who had just seen more than they were ready for.
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