“Sirius Black’s file, Sir. Along with the document you requested.�

Head Mattering thanked the secretary, already flipping open the file and fingering through the documents within as she left. An investigation into the case of Sirius Black had gone on for years, ever since late 1981, when he had been convicted of murder and had immediately received a life sentence. Things had grown even more interesting once Black had managed to be the first person to escape Azkaban Prison after spending almost a dozen years within its walls. And his sudden death in the Department of Mysteries added to the already complicated investigation.

Mattering sighed. Black’s adult life was a slow blur of activity, but little, if nothing, was known about his younger years that would have been of interest to the public. In their eyes, he was nothing more than a spoiled little pureblood brat who had gone completely crazy. They just took his surname and created their own ideas of who he was. Of course, there was really no precedent for them to think differently. Members of the ancient, pureblood families all tended to be the same, anyway.

However, something just wasn’t adding up with Black, and Mattering knew it. The document that interested Mattering, the head investigator for the magical community, was something only a few others within the investigational office and the wizarding world knew about.. Mattering, in all of his years working for the department, had never been so consumed by a case like he was with Black’s.

He unfolded the parchment that surrounded the file. Inside, there was an old, black journal with Sirius’s name in gold script on the front. Mattering,opened up the journal, the worn creases showing clearly on the paper, and began to read the thoughts of an eleven-year-old Sirius Black. Perhaps, he thought to himself, the mystery of Sirius Black would finally be solved by what was written in the journal.



Journal,

I finally received my Hogwarts letter today. It had taken forever to get here. I think my mother would have been a bit upset if it hadn’t come today. This, of course, is an understatement. I’m just thankful that I will finally be leaving this dark house.

Right after I got the letter, though, my father went into his ‘Noble House of Black’ speech and it’s not like I hadn’t heard the entire drabble before. It went something like this:

“The Black family commands a certain level of respect in the Wizarding world,� my father told me. Yeah, yeah, yeah, respect. I didn’t really care about being a part of this family. I’m like a blasted chess piece; all of my life has been planned out, and before leaving for Hogwarts on September 1st, my parents told me the next part in my ‘life story’, if you will.

“You will be sorted into Slytherin and take every course we tell you to throughout the seven years you attend.You will be a role model for your brother, who you will set in place when he arrives in two years,� drilled my mother. I struggled not to sigh aloud, but I couldn’t keep the thoughts away. As if I didn’t know my younger brother was her favorite. Even Father knew that. And Father picked up the speech right after her. It’s almost like they planned what and when they were going to talk or something.

“The Noble House of Black will expect nothing but perfection from you. Remember, Sirius,� he said, towering over me. “You are part of a family who has never mixed with anything less than pureblood. It is a legacy you will be expected to hold up as the heir of this family, which means that not only will you be in Slytherin and on the Quidditch team --� (I smirked at that comment. If there was one thing I enjoyed the most in my life, it was Quidditch. At least one of my family’s demands wouldn’t be horrible.) “--You will also graduate with full honors.�

I nodded. What else could I say except, “Yes, Sir�?


Mattering turned the page of the journal, thinking No wonder he went crazy. Too much pressure, especially on a child. He was probably already set to have an arranged marriage as well. He tore his mind from the thoughts, though, and kept reading.

September 1, 1971

Journal,

I now sit in my bed in Gryffindor Tower. My parents’ plan of Slytherins and purebloods obviously didn’t work out. I have a good feeling they are going to kill me over the Christmas holiday. I’ve received at least a dozen Howlers already from immediate family and distant relatives. Even my mother sent me one, telling me what a disgrace I am.

It’s hard to believe that today is still September 1st. Early this morning, I was woken by my family’s house–elf, Kreacher, who has always hated me. (But I hate him, too, so it really doesn’t matter.) After a formal breakfast, my parents took me to King’s Cross, leaving my younger brother at home. Once we were through the barrier, my father stopped me from running off by placing his cold hand upon my shoulder. He steered me to the brick wall and gave me a final ‘holding up the family honor’ speech. My mother looked on as if she were telling me a fond goodbye. Both my parents were excellent actors.

“Remember you are a part of a noble bloodline. Find an empty compartment and remember what it means to be part of this family. There is no room for the weak.� He continued on in this manner, but I tuned him out. It was the same crap they had drilled into me since my birth, and it wasn’t like I didn’t already know it; I could probably have repeated it better than my father could, as a matter of fact. I tuned back in, though, as he stated his closing sentiments “… Your true friends will be found in that way. Never settle for less than what the Noble House of Black deserves.�

I said my formal good-bye, as did my parents. No tears could be seen in my eyes or my parents’ but they put on a damn good show of acting like they were going to miss me.

Hurrying on board the bright red train, I looked for a compartment, finally finding one at the end of the train. It was empty, but I hoped that it wouldn’t remain so. I had longed for real friends and freedom my whole life, and now that I had some freedom, I wanted friends as well. And it wasn’t long before I had my wish.

James Potter with his signature, messy, black hair; Peter Pettigrew, short with straw-blonde hair; and Remus Lupin, blonde, thin, and very pale.



Head Mattering stopped reading immediately, thoughts swirling in his mind. James Potter? Remus Lupin? Peter Pettigrew? Peter Pettigrew was a friend of Sirius Black? I wonder what went so wrong with their friendship? Why would he kill one of his friends? And James Potter … he couldn’t mean Harry Potter’s father, could he? What other connection did Sirius have with the Potter family?

---

September 7, 1971




Journal,

Everyone seems nice here at Hogwarts – except for the Slytherins, of course, but I wasn’t expecting them to be. I plan on staying as far away from them as possible. There is this one girl – I think her name is Lily -- and it is her fault that I, Sirius Black, have managed to receive my first detention, but a ray of light is present because James Potter, my partner-in–crime, will also be there. Peter was gone and Remus would have frowned upon our little joke, so he was not present either. Our victim? Severus Snape, a greasy Slytherin who hasn’t washed his hair in Merlin knows how long. (Really, I don’t even know if it’s hair anymore. It might just be a dead animal or something).





Well, Snape ended up locked in a broom cupboard with this green gunk on him, and that is where McGonagall found him. I am almost positive that it was Lily who told on us! She’s always the one telling the teachers.





*










“See you in potions, Severus,� Lily called as she headed down the staircase to Transfiguration.










“She cannot be serious,� James mumbled under his breath. Sirius’s face held a look of great offence.





“No, I’m Sirius. She is Lily, and that git that she was baring a farewell to was Snape.�





James continued to glare in the direction of Snape and Lily (the glare, of course, intended more for the Slytherin than the Gryffindor), not even sparing a glance back at his friend for the overly used Sirius-serious pun. It was clear that, more than anything, James wanted to prank someone and it just so happened that Severus Snape was the perfect victim.





“Got any good ideas, mate?� James asked, still glaring at Snape.





“Good ideas? Yeah, I got a few,� Sirius replied with a smirk on his lips.











“He’s in there, Professor!� Lily said as she led the Transfiguration teacher over to the broom closet, a closet that also happened to store potions.





McGonagall waved her wand and the door sprung open. Inside stood Severus Snape, covered with Aztec Algae that left him completely soaked and smelling quite … poorly.





“Who did this, Miss Evans?� asked Professor McGonagall shrilly.





“It was Potter and Black,� said Lily, but she rushed on before McGonagall could respond one way or another. “And they did it on purpose, Professor,� she said. “Severus has never done anything to them.� Lily took another glance at her friend, hoping Severus would be alright; he did look sort of ill, after all.





There was a clanging noise just down the hall, and McGonagall turned suddenly to see two people emerge from behind some suits of armor. “Mr. Potter! Mr. Black!� she yelled as the two boys tried to make a desperate run for freedom.










Unfortunately, though, they didn’t get very far.









“Is it true you did this?� she asked, staring at both of them and gesturing towards the broom closet, where it was clear Snape still stood out of sight.










Sirius tried to look innocent, plastering the most angelic face on that he could and was just on the verge of trying to figure out if playing ignorant would work, when he realized it was a lost cause anyway. The satisfied look on James’s face gave them away immediately.





“Detention, my office tonight, and five points from Gryffindor … each.�





*










Yeah, I know it had to be Lily. Although, convincing James of this fact would be rather hard. He thinks Lily is some kind of celestial being. Honestly, she’s just a girl.









Oops, I’m now fifteen minutes late for detention … Do you think McGonagall will mind?

-Sirius










Mattering quickly grabbed a quill and the first ink bottle he could get his hands on. A blank piece of parchment now held the words ‘Severus Snape and Lily’; a moment later, he added ‘Evans’ at the end.










Severus Snape and Lily Evans










He knew that they were friends; the journal that Mattering was reading told him as much, and a part of him could vaguely remember such information from his own Hogwarts days. But as far as he recalled, he didn’t know of Snape and Evans (or Mrs. Potter) continuing any such friendship. Hmm, he thought, I wonder what had happened to their friendship and what made it fail?










Figuring that such information was just another part of the grand mystery surrounding the growing cast of characters that seemed to make appearances in the life of Sirius Black, and that, perhaps, it would be revealed in time, Mattering picked up the journal again and read the next entry, noticing right in the beginning that it had been written months after the previous one.










Christmas 1971,





Journal,




I haven’t written because I am far too busy with my new found freedom and detentions. (I know, a bit of an ironic statement, but what can I say?)









A little while back my dear mother asked me to come home for Christmas, but I just had to decline. I sent her a rather polite letter (if I do say so myself) telling both her and Father why I wouldn’t be coming home for the holidays. I copied the letter down here, so if I need to, I’ll use it again next year…









Dear Mother and Father,




I have decided that it would be better if I stayed at Hogwarts over the Christmas season. I have tons of school work that has to be finished and although the library at home is vast, it does not have nearly as many books as the library here. See you in the summer.

-Sirius

P.S. Please send all my presents care of owl post.



A part of me almost wishes that I could have been there when she opened it, just to see her face or something. But then again, I’m rather fond of living, to tell you the truth.

-Sirius









Mattering laughed, thinking, The kid had spunk. Anything bad that Black had done during his school years was either a prank or something forced upon him.









The more he read, the more the mystery surrounding the man seemed to grow. He sighed. Mattering had hoped that the journal would provide answers to his questions, would tell him why Black had done what he did – or, if some of the latest reports were right in saying that Black hadn’t been guilty – that the journal would yield answers to how a guilty verdict could have been so easily believed, both in the beginning and for so many years afterwards.









He pondered all of this for several moments, hoping to somehow miraculously stumble across the hidden answer to everything, when his thoughts were interrupted as an owl tapped on his window. Glancing up, he flicked his wand to let the bird in, and it flew immediately over to him. Mattering took the envelope from its talons and opened it up, curious over its contents.









Head Mattering,




Your letter came as a surprise. At first, I had no plans to write back, but it is my hope that by doing so, the wizarding world will finally know the entire truth about Sirius Black.





He was my godfather and a great prankster back in his school days, along with my father … and he was also a wizard who suffered far more injustices than one should have to face.





The real murderer in this whole case was Peter Pettigrew. He betrayed both of my parents – two of his friends – and in doing so, framed Sirius – another friend – for it all, an action that landed him in Azkaban.





Peter Pettigrew did not die on that day in November like so many thought, but conveniently disappeared.. He didn’t actually die until earlier this year, and it was by his own hand, too.





Unfortunately, and regardless of Fudge’s mediocre and nearly worthless attempt at a public statement concerning Sirius’s innocence almost two years ago, most of the wizarding world still believes he was a murderer. Such a thing needs to be rectified.





However, I will go into no further detail about Sirius in this letter. You seem to be a smart enough individual to figure things out




-Harry J. Potter





The owl flew out the open window, seeming to have stayed until Mattering finished the letter, and leaving Mattering confused. He glanced back at the letter, reading through it again. “The wizarding world will finally know the entire truth�, the boy had written.





But what more could there be to the truth? What, exactly, could the boy mean? After all, surely Fudge would have told the press everything about the case when telling them of Black’s innocence … wouldn’t he?





But after a moment, Mattering realized that he wouldn’t have. If the right evidence had truly been present for all this time, yet no one had taken the time to look into it, if no one had investigated it properly, then Fudge would have never told the whole truth to the press – and, by extension, the public – about Black. At least, not after his arduous campaign to find Sirius Black and sentence him to the Dementor’s Kiss.





“The uproar it would cause,� he muttered to himself. “A scandal to rival that of Crouch’s fall back in 1981 … Innocent men imprisoned and threatened with fates worse then death, the poorly investigated crime scene, outright lying to the public … The man’s too political to deal with it –�





Mattering cut his words off with a sigh, realizing that a headache would approach very soon if he just kept thinking over the former Minister’s politics – and outright dishonest political maneuvering.





Instead, he turned his focus back to Potter’s letter and the continuing mystery of Sirius Black – and the “entire truth�, as the boy said. Reading through the letter once again, one name immediately jumped out at him.





“Peter Pettigrew?� Mattering exclaimed, surprise overtaking him as he realized the implications. “So, if ‘Sirius Black’ didn’t equal ‘Voldemort’, then …� He gasped as his head spun at the concept. Did ‘Peter Pettigrew’ equal ‘Voldemort’? How? Why?





The only thought that pierced his mind was … Animagi. It had been rumored that Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, and Sirius Black had become un-registered Animagi while still in school, but this had been dismissed by the department. The article in the Daily Prophet in which had proclaimed Black’s innocence had insisted that it had happened, but the thought of wizards that young performing such complicated magic like that was absurbd … or was it?

---

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