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Chapter 204 - The Wise Man Onboard (I) (CH - 224)

When October drew to an end, the weather had turned properly cold. The trees along the edge of the Forbidden Forest glowed with gold and orange leaves, most of which had already fallen, forming a crisp, rustling carpet across the grounds.

Despite the Dementors circling the skies above the castle, the first three weeks of the month passed by without incident. The mood around school stayed calm, and nothing unusual disrupted the routine.

But nothing ever stays quiet for too long in this castle. As the final week crept in, that calm was quickly replaced by excitement—not just because Halloween was around the corner, but because it was also the time for the school's All-Star Quidditch team to be heading to Germany to participate in the first round of this year's inter-school tournament.

Thus, on Saturday, the school's deputy headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, along with flying instructor Rolanda Hooch and the Hogwarts team coach, Steven, all left for Germany, accompanying this year's fourteen students to show the world what they were made of.

And speaking of the team, a few changes had shown up compared to last year. Three new players came in to replace those who'd graduated, Harry Potter stepped in as the first team Seeker after Marcus Flint left, and Fred Weasley snagged a spot as a Beater.

It was a solid lineup. Everyone was feeling optimistic—and some were downright confident they could outdo last season's performance. Fortunately, no one jinxed it by running their mouth, and by the time the week rolled around, the team was still in the competition.

When Halloween finally arrived, the Great Hall was once again fully transformed for the occasion, with giant carved pumpkins floating above the tables, cobwebs stretched across the rafters, and bats drifting lazily beneath the enchanted ceiling. However, this year, hardly anyone paid attention to the eerily vivid decorations.

Instead, all eyes were glued to the four large screens floating around the Hall, broadcasting live the last match of the first round of this year's tournament.

And as it happened, it was Hogwarts on the pitch tonight—so naturally, the whole school was on edge. With one win and one loss behind them, this final match would decide whether they moved on to the next stage, so it goes without saying why the tension in the Hall was so thick.

Every time the Quaffle neared either set of goalposts, the Hall would erupt with sharp gasps or groans. Some had their faces buried in their hands as if they were watching a horror film, while others were on their feet, yelling at the screens as if the players could somehow hear them through it.

Over at the staff table, the scene was much the same. All eyes were glued to the screens, and some—like Hagrid—could barely stay in their seats, behaving just like any other hot blooded student. No one said a word about the noise or lack of table manners tonight. Heck, even Snape had his eyes fixed on the screens for the entire match.

The game ran over three hours, but no one cared. Even with the tables cleared and dinner long gone, the Hall stayed electric. In the end, Hogwarts claimed the win by reaching the maximum goal limit first. And at that moment, the Great Hall turned festive all over again as everyone burst into celebration.

"A most spirited game, wouldn't you say?" the school's Headmaster asked the staff table after letting out a long breath he didn't even realise he was holding until the final whistle.

Everyone else had been the same, sighing in unison with relieved exhaustion, glad that the team had won.

"The kids gave their best, and luck was on our side too," Maverick said. He, too, had been swept up in the match and could see just how close it had been. In his opinion, they would need more than luck to make it past the next stage.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly at the serious remark, his eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "Ah, but is luck not its own peculiar form of strength?" He paused, then, glancing at the clock, shook his head. "Much as I would like the evening to continue, curfew is nearly upon us..."

"Give them a bit more time, Headmaster. It's a celebration..." Maverick cut in smoothly.

"Professor Caesar is right, Headmaster. Besides, it's Halloween..."

The other professors also chimed in, suggesting they allow the kids to celebrate a bit longer. The old man could only accept since everyone had spoken, and the thunderous atmosphere in the Great Hall continued until midnight before the students were finally asked to head to their common rooms.

"Headmaster—" Maverick stopped Dumbledore before he headed to his office once the hall cleared. "When Professor McGonagall comes back, I'd like to have a chat with the two of you..."

"Something urgent?" Dumbledore asked thoughtfully.

"Yes... it has to do with Sirius Black..."

The twinkle in the old man's eyes faded upon hearing that name and he nodded solemnly. "I shall speak to Minerva the moment she returns. Let us meet in my office tomorrow evening then..."

With that, the old man departed, and Maverick also retired for the evening to have a good night's sleep.

---

The next evening, after dinner, Maverick climbed the spiraling staircase toward the Headmaster's office, the stone walls flickering with torchlight, until he reached the familiar griffin-shaped gargoyle guarding the entrance.

"Sugar quill," he said, and the statue leapt aside with a scrape of stone, revealing the moving staircase beyond.

He wasn't alone. Remus was beside him as well, brought along because it would be easier to explain some aspects of Black's situation with him there to fill in the details.

The door creaked open, and they found the Headmaster and his deputy already there, waiting for them—both seated with tea and some snacks already prepared.

What's this? A gossip table prepared? Maverick chuckled inwardly, just as he heard McGonagall ask inquiringly, her gaze fixed on Lupin.

"Remus?" she asked, brows drawn.

"It's a long story, Professor," Maverick said as they stepped inside. "Professor Lupin is here because he can explain some things better... he has a history with tonight's subject, after all..."

They all settled in, and Dumbledore, ever the hospitable host, offered tea and snacks just as quickly.

"First off," Maverick said, dumping the cup back on the saucer after one disgusted sip—too damn sweet. "I need you to listen and think very carefully about what I'm about to reveal. The Sirius Black case isn't as simple as you've been led to believe…"

For the next hour and a half, Maverick laid everything out from start to finish. He began with how he had found Black, and how questioning him had finally revealed the full truth.

The truth about the Potters' deaths. The secret switch of the Secret Keeper. Pettigrew's betrayal. How the rat had framed Black for the murders and destruction he himself had caused—and that Peter Pettigrew had never truly died back then.

Lupin chimed in every so often, filling in details as Maverick continued—explaining how he had captured Pettigrew afterward, and that the audacious rat had been living in plain sight with the Weasleys for twelve years, even staying at Hogwarts with Ronald Weasley during the past two.

"...since Lupin had a history with both of them, I took him along with Black to finally interrogate the rat. He confessed everything... the man was a pure coward."

Dumbledore leaned back, fingers steepled, his eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and contemplation over the turn of events. His deputy shared a similar look—bewildered that the two men she had once taught, long believed to be a brave hero and a coward, had somehow swapped roles.

"I had a feeling something was off back then," McGonagall said quietly. "I knew that boy, Sirius Black, very well… mischievous, yes. A troublemaker, most definitely. But unlike other purebloods, he never cared about blood status, so I found it hard to believe he'd be a spy for a blood supremacist madman. His family, especially his mother, I was told, placed that above all else. I even heard he was disowned by her for—"

"Nonsense!" A heavy, aged voice, sharp with anger, suddenly cut in, interrupting McGonagall. "A mere woman who married into my house possesses no authority to disinherit a scion of the Blacks. No matter how wayward that boy's opinions may be, blood and birthright are not—and shall never be—so lightly cast aside."

"Phineas," Dumbledore said with a faint smile, "I almost forgot you are a Black as well."

"Dumbledore," said the man inside the portrait, "I have heard many ridiculous tales tonight, but this one I firmly believe to be true. You must help that boy clear his name."

Then he turned his gaze to Maverick. "And you, boy—please help him. As a favor, I will allow you to choose any treasure from the Black family vault, anything you desire..."

Maverick chuckled at the portrait's ridiculous remark. "Headmaster, with all due respect, you're dead..."

Not to be outdone, the former Headmaster replied firmly, "I will speak to the boy if you bring him here to me. He will listen to me..."

"Okay, forget it," Maverick waved his hand dismissively. "I'll be helping Sirius Black clear his name anyway. Besides, even if you don't ask him, I'm pretty sure he'll hand over whatever I want from the vault..."

"Have you thought about how to get his case started? What about handing over Peter Pettigrew to the Ministry?" McGonagall asked again once the blunt, old portrait had finished speaking its mind.

Maverick nodded. "I've shared the full story with the Ministry's law enforcement director and several of his colleagues. They've promised to help—and to reopen the case as soon as Black and Pettigrew are handed over together."

"You have handled these matters remarkably well, Professor Caesar. I doubt even I could have done it so deftly," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, leaning back in his chair. "But I can't help but wonder... surely there's more to this tale, yes?"

"As sharp as ever, Headmaster… which is why I'm sharing this with the two of you in the first place. Because really, clearing Black's name and putting Pettigrew behind bars isn't a challenge for me..."

The old man smiled, gesturing for him to continue, while McGonagall raised an eyebrow, also curious about what he had to say next.

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