Elsewhere, Wayne tidied up, gathered some essentials, and made his way to the Headmaster's Office.
This promptly roused the portraits of former headmasters.
They peered curiously at why Wayne would visit so late.
The youth grinned up at the paintings. "Phineas, congratulations."
"Congratulations for what?" Phineas looked baffled.
"I've just captured Sirius Black. He's being transported here as we speak."
"Truly?" Phineas initially beamed, then his expression darkened. "Wait – why bring him here? Didn't I specify Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place?"
"Boy, are you reneging on our deal?"
"Not at all." Wayne shook his head gently. "Your great-great-grandson was framed. The true culprit is someone else..."
Wayne gave a brief explanation, omitting most backstory.
He knew this tale would be repeated endlessly in the coming days.
But Phineas cared little for details. All that mattered was that his descendant wouldn't be imprisoned in Azkaban or forced to hide at Grimmauld Place forever. Sirius could live openly as the Black Family's representative.
Phineas's moustache practically bristled with joy as he bellowed, "I always said our family wouldn't produce a friend-betraying traitor! Even if Sirius is a scoundrel, he's no exception!"
The bearded former headmaster retorted bluntly, "Rubbish! How many times have you called him the Black Family's disgrace?"
"Lawrence, boy, you didn't make all this up, did you?" A Gryffindor Headmaster asked suspiciously.
"Just to fulfil Phineas's agreement?"
Wayne shook his head. "I don't have time for such games, Headmaster Hunter. You should have some faith in your own students. This is all true."
"But the other person was also from Gryffindor," Headmaster Hunter muttered under his breath, though he didn't press further.
"Phineas, the terms you promised me earlier still stand, don't they?" Wayne asked again.
Phineas's smile froze.
His mind began to wrestle with itself.
Initially, he'd thought Sirius was a criminal and wanted Wayne to shelter him, hence offering such generous terms.
But now, with his great-great-grandson proven innocent, having to hand over three vaults of gold and the Black Family's millennia-old collections...
Ouch... He was already feeling the sting.
Seeing his conflicted expression, Wayne crossed his arms. "You're not thinking of going back on your word, are you?"
"What if... I wanted to renegotiate?" Phineas ventured cautiously.
The young man's smile carried a dangerous edge. "Then I'll drag Black straight to the Dementors right now."
"No one welches on a debt to the Lawrence family unless their entire bloodline is extinct."
"No, no, I was just joking!" Phineas hurriedly said, knowing full well the boy would follow through.
"We Blacks honour our promises. The terms won't change. But you must ensure Sirius is exonerated."
"Fine, consider that a free bonus. No extra charge." Wayne considered briefly before nodding.
Phineas finally resigned himself - consider it protection money for Sirius.
He knew the Ministry of Magic's ways all too well.
After such a colossal blunder, their priority wouldn't be justice for the innocent, but damage control - perhaps even perpetuating the mistake to save face.
Without Wayne's help, clearing Sirius's name would be difficult, or at least painfully drawn out.
He couldn't wait any longer. He wanted to see new heirs for the Black family.
...
Wayne and Phineas whispered together for a while, voices so low the other Headmasters couldn't hear - only catching occasional eerie snickers. Whatever they discussed was clearly shady business.
With matters settled and Harry's group yet to arrive, Wayne ordered a midnight snack and began eating.
It wasn't a full moon, so Lupin had no risk of transforming, and Peter Pettigrew couldn't break free from his magic - escape was impossible.
The only variable was the Dementors, but he'd sent Thunderbird Mia to... converse with them. They wouldn't interfere with Harry's group.
Every contingency had been accounted for. Even if Voldemort showed up today, Peter Pettigrew wouldn't escape.
He didn't have to wait long. Halfway through his spaghetti and meatballs, movement came from the doorway.
Soon, a group entered the office, startled to see Wayne seated behind the desk.
"They changed Headmasters without telling us?"
Ron's quip voiced everyone's thoughts perfectly.
Harry even found himself nodding unconsciously.
Wayne looked as comfortable as being at home—food and drinks aplenty, while seated upon Dumbledore's Headmaster's throne.
"You're here? Care for a bite?" Wayne greeted warmly. Apart from Sirius and Ron swallowing hard, everyone else shook their heads.
"Lawrence, how exactly do you intend to handle this matter?" Snape asked with a frown.
"First, let's eat. After that, I'll call Professor McGonagall over." Wayne tapped the table, and several plates of pasta appeared on the meeting table. Left with no choice, Snape suppressed his temper and quickly finished his portion.
Since Sirius was still bound, it was Lupin and Harry who took turns feeding him, much to Peter Pettigrew's envy.
He'd been eating rat food for over a decade. Except for sneaking human food when no one was around, he'd lived no differently from an actual rat to avoid raising suspicion.
"Young Master Lawrence, might I have a plate?" Before Wayne could respond, Phineas, on the wall, erupted in curses:
"Eat nothing! Are you worthy? How dare you slander a member of the Black Family! If I were still alive, I'd slaughter you where you stand!"
At this, Ron and Harry froze, while Sirius remained indifferent. "Ignore him. He is indeed my great-great-grandfather—also the least popular Headmaster in Hogwarts history—but he's got nothing to do with me."
Phineas tugged at his beard. "Sirius, no matter what you say, you can't change the sacred blood running through your veins. I've given up on you entirely, but you must produce a son... or else..."
The old man sneered. Sirius instinctively wanted to retort, but sensed something ominous.
Just then, Wayne flicked his wand, and all the plates vanished. "Could someone fetch Professor McGonagall for me?"
The question wasn't directed at Harry or the other living occupants but at the portraits of past Headmasters lining the walls.
"I'll go!" Phineas responded with unusual enthusiasm before disappearing from his frame. Silence fell over the room as many of the portraits studied Sirius and Peter.
Wayne remained quiet until Snape finally asked, "You can command the Headmaster's portraits?"
"Special circumstances," Wayne waved a hand dismissively. "Normally, I can't order them about."
"Ahem!" The bearded Headmaster interjected. "Before Dumbledore left, he said we should assist you with whatever you need."
"The Headmaster's being this generous?" This time, it was Wayne's turn to be surprised.
Harry and Ron listened in confusion until Lupin quietly explained, "Commanding the portraits of past Headmasters is a privilege unique to the Headmaster..."
Ron blurted out, "So should we call Lawrence 'Headmaster' now?"
Lupin gave him a look of disbelief. Was this boy missing a few screws? This was merely Dumbledore entrusting the school to Wayne in his absence, not an actual retirement.
...
Soon, Phineas returned, and five minutes later, Professor McGonagall arrived.
She came in a hurry, still panting as she entered, her nightgown unchanged and her sleeping cap askew. The moment she stepped in, her gaze locked onto the meeting area.
And the moment she entered, both Sirius and Peter Pettigrew instinctively straightened their postures.
Professor McGonagall covered her mouth in disbelief. "Merlin's beard, Peter... you're actually alive. And you, Black."
"Professor McGonagall," Sirius greeted.
Peter Pettigrew kept his head lowered without speaking.
"What on earth is going on?" Professor McGonagall asked, utterly bewildered. "Headmaster Black only just mentioned that Sirius was framed and Peter was the real culprit. Can someone explain the actual situation to me?"
Wayne nudged his chin, signalling Harry to speak.
So Harry began recounting the events for the third time, only to be interrupted by Professor McGonagall right at the start.
"Wait a moment, I don't recall approving any note permitting you to seek out Dementors, Lupin?"
Harry looked blankly at Lupin.
It was only then that Lupin remembered he still had this hurdle to clear.
Hanging his head in shame, he admitted, "I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall. I forged your signature."
"At that point, I was about seventy per cent certain that Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew, which is why I agreed to Sirius's plan..."
"You..." Professor McGonagall pointed a trembling finger at him. "Do you have any idea how dangerously you put Potter and Weasley at risk?"
"If Sirius had deceived me, I would have protected their safety," Lupin said weakly.
Professor McGonagall was so furious she couldn't speak for a long moment, finally managing to choke out:
"Only now do I realise what a true Gryffindor you are, Lupin."
Wayne nearly laughed aloud.
Wasn't that just another way of calling Lupin reckless and brainless?
"Potter, continue," McGonagall said, knowing this wasn't the time for reprimands. Understanding the truth was paramount.
So Harry carried on with his account.
When she heard how Peter had betrayed James and Lily, Professor McGonagall's eyes grew moist.
"Peter, James and Lily treated you well during your school years, didn't they? How could you bear to betray them?"
"Professor..." Peter Pettigrew's voice cracked with emotion.
"I'm sorry, I... I just wanted to survive. The Dark Lord... the Dark Lord is too terrifying."
Only when facing Professor McGonagall would he show his true feelings.
Because... she was the only elder in the school who didn't discriminate against him and treated him equally.
Even Dumbledore—back then, his eyes had only been on James and Sirius.
In Dumbledore's eyes, he was merely their insignificant little follower.
Seeing Peter like this, Harry pressed his lips together before continuing.
He sneakily tattled on Snape. McGonagall didn't interrupt him, though she did glare fiercely at Snape, making the old bat shift uncomfortably.
The familiar faces around him evoked the feeling of being back in his student days, recalling the fear of being under Professor McGonagall's rule.
He'd completely forgotten he was now a Head of House too, their statuses practically equal.
"That's how it all happened."
As Harry finished speaking, a large mug of honeyed water appeared on the table, which he drained without hesitation.
He'd spoken more tonight than in an ordinary week.
"Professor, it's your decision now," Wayne said, checking the time—it was almost midnight—and urging her as Professor McGonagall remained deep in thought.
"I'll contact Dumbledore and the Ministry immediately," Professor McGonagall said after a moment's hesitation. "But... these are just verbal accounts without concrete evidence. It'll still be difficult."
"But he's already admitted it!" Harry said loudly, pointing at Peter. "He didn't deny anything when I was speaking earlier."
"But our conversation wasn't a legally conducted interrogation either," Professor McGonagall sighed. "The people at the Ministry... they'll definitely try to sweep this under the rug."
"Evidence..." Wayne suddenly spoke up, snapping his fingers. The shadow on the left side of Peter's body vanished. "Professor Lupin, could you pull up his sleeve?"
Lupin froze, while Peter Pettigrew's face changed, filled with utter terror.
When the sleeve was rolled up, it was the others' turn to pale.
"The Dark Mark?!" Ron's voice cracked.
Sirius looked at him with contempt. "Peter, you truly deserve to die..."
"What's the Dark Mark?" Harry asked blankly.
"It's what the Dark Lord bestowed upon his Death Eaters," Ron said quickly. "Only his most trusted followers received the Dark Mark. Those maniacs saw it as a mark of honour—they'd cast one in the sky after every atrocity."
Harry's eyes filled with disgust.
"This evidence should suffice?" Wayne asked.
"More than enough."
"Peter, you've truly disappointed me..." Professor McGonagall's gaze made Peter wish he could bury his head in his chest.
Wayne stood up. "Then it's settled. Everything will wait until the Headmaster and Ministry officials arrive tomorrow."
"What about Sirius and Peter..." Lupin began.
"I'll take responsibility for them," Professor McGonagall volunteered. "Sirius, you're still a suspect. I won't hand you over to the Dementors, but I can't release you either."
"I understand," Sirius nodded sympathetically.
"I think this should do."
Snape suddenly spoke up, "Professor McGonagall, you take care of Sirius. I'll handle Peter. We shouldn't let them stay together - what if this is an act they're putting on together?"
Professor McGonagall frowned, still hesitating, when Wayne interjected.
"Not a bad idea. Each watching one makes things simpler."
Snape immediately regarded him with newfound appreciation.
Seeing Wayne agree, Professor McGonagall finally relented.
"Very well, Severus. Peter Pettigrew is your responsibility."
"Rest assured," Snape replied with a sinister smile. "I'll give him proper hospitality."
Over a decade's worth of pent-up rage and guilt could finally be partially released tonight.
The only regret gnawing at Snape was why they only had one night. How much better if it could last longer?
Wayne removed the restraints from both prisoners. Professor McGonagall transfigured two teacups into handcuffs and leg irons, which she fastened onto Sirius.
Meanwhile, Snape conjured two venomous snakes that coiled around Peter's body, their fanged mouths gaping near his head, ready to strike at the slightest movement.
Peter began weeping again.
Couldn't he swap places with Sirius?!