"Maybe we can try again," Harry said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Why don't we attempt to summon Peter's soul?"
A hush fell over the room. Even the faint whispers ceased as everyone stared at Harry in stunned silence.
"Mr. Potter," a member of the Wizengamot spoke up, "if I recall correctly, your magic for summoning souls is called Ancestral Magic, and it can only call forth the spirits of those bound to you by blood. As far as I know, Peter Pettigrew has no blood relation to you."
"There's a misunderstanding here," Harry raised his voice to clarify. "A shaman priest isn't limited to summoning only the souls of their own bloodline. Any sufficiently skilled shaman can perform the ritual for others."
"So, you mean you can summon an ancestor's soul through a blood connection for someone else?" another voice asked.
"Not quite," Harry shook his head. "It's more accurate to say it's the soul of a deceased person tied to the bloodline, not just limited to ancestors of higher generations."
"I think I understand, Mr. Potter," Amelia Bones nodded. "You want to use Mary Pettigrew's blood to summon Peter's soul? To have him confront James Potter's soul in court?"
"Isn't it standard for the accused to be present at a trial?" Harry replied with a faint smile.
"Very well," Fudge interjected. "As Minister for Magic, I authorize you to proceed, Potter."
Truth be told, Fudge's action was somewhat overstepping his authority, but Dumbledore said nothing, tacitly allowing it.
With permission granted, Harry stepped forward to stand before Mary Pettigrew. Despite her inability to speak or move freely, the venom in the old woman's gaze was unmistakable.
"Don't worry," Harry said softly, leaning down. "If all goes well, you'll see your son's soul soon enough."
His words caused Mary's body to stiffen, her struggles halting. The thought of seeing her dead son's soul again?
As Mary stood frozen, Harry carefully sliced the back of her hand with a precise flick of his wand. The cut was shallow, drawing only a few drops of blood before he healed it with a quick Episkey.
"Will this summoning harm the person involved, Mr. Potter?" a wizard asked, observing the act.
"If you don't count drawing blood as harm, then no," Harry replied, pausing to add, "Though there's a chance the words of the summoned soul might cause some emotional distress."
"Emotional distress doesn't count as harm," the wizard chuckled lightly.
"That's debatable," Harry said, shaking his head.
He smeared some of Mary Pettigrew's blood onto an ancestral totem and dripped the rest into a stone bowl filled with water. Under the curious and uneasy gazes of the assembled wizards, Harry lit a bonfire in the center of the courtroom, chanting softly under his breath.
With a final, resonant shout, he drove the totem into the floor.
A familiar ghostly blue light flickered, and a translucent figure emerged. But instead of a young soul, it was an elderly man with a full beard.
"Who's that?" Sirius Black blurted out. "Peter doesn't look like that."
Harry turned and waved his wand, lifting the Silencing Charm from Mary.
"Father?!"
Her voice was soft, but the word rang clear through the courtroom.
Harry placed his hand on the totem again, channeling his magic. His eyes glowed with a faint blue hue, and more souls began to materialize around Mary. They looked around curiously, some even waving at the spectators in the stands.
"Mother… Grandfather… Grandmother…" Mary murmured, naming her family's lineage.
Finally, Harry yanked the totem from the ground and tossed it aside. Without the totem as a conduit, the ghostly blue souls began to fade, drifting back to the realm of the dead. Those summoned by Mary's blood, who had only spoken a few words, vanished quickly.
"What… what does this mean?" Fudge stammered, shaken by the eerie spectacle. "Where are they? I mean—they were just greeting us! Why didn't we see Peter Pettigrew? Where's his soul?"
"They weren't evidence, Minister, so I sent them back," Harry said calmly. "As for Peter's soul… I know this is hard to believe, but it's the truth—Peter isn't dead. That's why I couldn't summon his soul using his mother's blood."
Harry wasn't surprised by this outcome. In fact, he had come to this trial to confirm a suspicion. It had to be true—Ron's peculiar pet rat, Scabbers, was none other than Peter Pettigrew.
Thanks to Harry's ability to summon ancestral souls and the truth about Sirius's case being reported in the papers, Peter had fled from Ron's side, hiding deep in the Forbidden Forest. He knew the limitations of Harry's divination abilities all too well.
While Harry had his answer, the courtroom erupted in chaos. The wizards in the stands were stunned by the revelation, and it took Dumbledore striking the gavel several times to restore a semblance of order.
"May I clarify, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said gravely, fixing his gaze on Harry. "Are you saying you couldn't summon Peter Pettigrew's soul because he is still alive, not a spirit?"
"Exactly," Harry nodded. "Using the Pettigrew bloodline, I summoned Mary's father, her grandparents, and others. But even so, I couldn't draw Peter's soul from the Ethereal Plane. There's only one explanation—he's still alive."
"But that's impossible!" a Wizengamot member shouted. "We all know Peter is dead. His body was reduced to a single finger!"
"That's just what we thought," another countered. "Didn't Sirius already say? Peter caused an explosion to take them both out. Sirius was knocked unconscious, and when he woke, he only found Peter's wand and a finger. He never saw Peter's body."
"There's something odd about it," another wizard mused. "An explosion powerful enough to destroy a street and kill twelve Muggles, yet Peter's wand was intact, and only a single finger remained?"
"Director Crouch," a Wizengamot member called out, "do you recall anything about Peter Pettigrew's finger? Is it still preserved?"
"The finger… I don't remember," Crouch said, his expression dazed. "But it should be stored in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's evidence room."
"Good. Send someone to retrieve it," Fudge ordered swiftly.
An Auror hurried out of the courtroom. It would take some time for the evidence to arrive, and in the meantime, the Wizengamot and jury's discussions grew louder and more heated.
Who could have predicted such a twist at this stage of the trial? If Harry was right and Peter Pettigrew was alive, why hadn't he shown himself? Why would someone hailed as a hero hide in the wizarding world under a false identity?
"Mr. Potter," another Wizengamot member pressed, "how can we be sure you didn't deliberately avoid summoning Peter's soul? Your demonstration relies on a shaman's unique abilities, and you're the only one here who possesses them."
"That means everything hinges on your word, and we have no way to verify it."
"What did you say?!" Sirius snapped, stepping forward angrily before Harry could respond.
"Quiet, Sirius," Harry said sharply, his tone commanding enough to stun Sirius into silence, his anger forgotten.
"It's a fair question," Harry said, turning back to the Wizengamot. "First, a shaman summons souls in order of bloodline proximity and age. The first soul we saw was Mary Pettigrew's father. If Peter were dead, his soul would have appeared first."
"Second, per my agreement with Minister Fudge, I'll train a group of Ministry members in shamanic abilities. You can verify my claims with them anytime."
"Third, trust me when I say I despise Peter Pettigrew more than any of you. I'd love nothing more than to see his soul here. As far as I know, the Ministry has no laws protecting the souls of criminals."
"And finally, most importantly, even without Peter's soul, the current evidence is enough to prove Sirius's innocence and Peter's guilt. I have no reason to lie."
Harry's words carried such intensity that for several seconds, no one dared question him further. No one asked what he might do to a criminal's soul, and the courtroom's murmurs quieted significantly.
"…Impressive, huh?" James whispered, sidling up to Sirius and nudging him playfully. "Harry's got some presence, doesn't he? Pretty cool, right?"
"Way cooler than you," Sirius grinned, whispering back. "If you were in his place, I bet you'd be all polite and Slytherin-like."
"Damn it, are you heatstroked or something?" James shot back, feigning offense. He started phasing through Sirius's body, making him shiver and beg for mercy.
The two friends, having shed some emotional weight, were back to their old selves, joking even in the solemn courtroom.
Soon, the Auror returned, carrying a small black box with a serious expression.
"Peter Pettigrew's final remains," Dumbledore announced gravely, opening the box. "Please, take a look."
Instead of passing it around, Dumbledore tapped the box with his wand. A white mist formed on the courtroom ceiling, displaying the box's contents for all to see.
A single, fleshy finger, looking as fresh as if it had just been severed. Despite twelve years, magic had preserved it perfectly, with no signs of decay.
Harry glanced at Mary. She didn't even look up at her son's finger, still staring at the floor, muttering to herself. She'd been like this since Harry revealed Peter was alive—caught between shock and wild joy.
"There's definitely something off," Amelia said, studying the finger as Dumbledore rotated it magically for all angles. "Director Crouch, you've been negligent. Doesn't that cut look too clean?"
"Given what we thought we knew—that Peter Pettigrew died in an explosion with no body left—the question is: an explosion strong enough to destroy a street and kill twelve Muggles, yet we only found this finger and his wand?"
"In such a blast, there's no charring on the finger, and the cut is perfectly smooth. With my years of experience, I'd say this wound looks more like it was caused by a blade or a Cutting Curse."
Amelia spoke bluntly, showing no regard for her colleague's reputation. Crouch's face grew paler by the second.
"I believe the truth is clear at this point," Amelia said, turning to Dumbledore at the head of the court. "Unless there's further evidence to present."
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze