Chapter 6: Epilogue
After a few days, the healers at St. Mungo's gave Sirius Black a clean health bill. "Congratulations on your recovery, Sirius." Dumbledore said and then added. "I'm sorry I didn't initially believe you."
"At least you gave in and allowed me a trial." Sirius replied.
"Thanks to Xenophilius." Dumbledore commented.
"Lovegood?" Sirius asked in surprise.
"Yes." The Headmaster answered. "He somehow had figured out everything except the part about you and Pettigrew being unregistered Animagi."
"I don't want to sound ungrateful but it seems even a stopped clock is right at least twice." Sirius said.
"Well, he also suggested you being denied a trial had something to do with you being Harry Potter's Godfather." Dumbledore said.
"Speaking of Harry, how's he?" Sirius asked. "Who took him from the Dursleys?"
"Sirius, you're the only wizard with a legal claim over Harry." Dumbledore explained.
"You don't mean…" Sirius figured out. "How could you leave my godson with THEM? I could understand as a provisory measure but you could have placed him with a wizarding family if you thought my trial would be just a formality!"
"Harry needs Petunia so the protection his mother left behind won't wear off before he becomes of age, Sirius." Dumbledore explained.
"My house is well-warded enough to eliminate the need for that protection and the both of us know how the Dursleys feel about magic." Sirius firmly stated. "Try to stop me and I'll give Lovegood an interview confirming his theory about Harry!"
Knowing it could give him problem on the long run, Dumbledore gave in and they went to Privet Drive to pick up Harry. Vernon and Petunia were too eager to hand over their nephew (Sirius was angry but not surprised) and then they took Harry to St. Mungo's for a checkup.
Sirius and Dumbledore waited until a healer brought them terrible news: Harry's scar contained a soul fragment and the hospital needed to bring a curse breaker to handle it. 'If it was what I think it was, I'm ashamed of myself for thinking there's no way to deal with that he didn't know about.' Dumbledore thought.
Sirius gave Harry a happy childhood and, by the time he received his Hogwarts letter, his scar faded so much his year-mates wouldn't believe he's Harry Potter until it was his turn to be sorted. He stood up only to be stopped by a redhead. "Professor McGonagall called for Harry Potter, not for you, you liar!"
"I am Harry Potter!"
"The real Harry Potter has a lightning-shaped scar!" The redhead triumphantly argued.
"It vanished over the years, Weasley." Harry replied after reading the redhead's name tag.
"Scars from Dark Magic don't vanish, liar."
"Mr. Weasley, detention for interfering with the sorting." McGonagall said. "If he's not who he says he is; the Sorting Hat will tell."
As the Sorting Hat was placed upon Harry's head, it confirmed he's real. 'Now that we've settled it, where do we place you?'
'Not in the same House as Weasley, please.'
'His House won't be defined until his time to be sorted, Mr. Potter.'
Knowing how his Godfather broke a tradition by becoming a Gryffindor, Harry understood the hat's point. 'In that case, will you please put me in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? The way Sirius talks about the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry makes me afraid of being in either House.'
'In that case, RAVENCLAW!'
"I knew it!" Weasley shouted in triumph. "He's so not Harry Potter he didn't even become a Gryffindor!"
"Do you want the detention to be with Professor Snape, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall threatened. Thanks to what his brothers told him about Snape, the threat worked.
The students next to where Harry chose to sit were amazed at the magazine he's reading. "The Quibbler? Really?"
"Xenopihlius Lovegood was the one who figured out my Godfather was innocent." Harry defended the magazine's author. "If not for him, it's likely that Sirius would still be rotting in Azkaban and Peter Pettigrew would still be masquerading as the Weasleys' pet rat."
Weasley didn't become a happy Gryffindor. Many of his House mates assumed he's the reason Harry didn't become a Gryffindor like them. All of this was forgotten once Ron saw the food appearing and he was so focused on it he didn't mind the glares or the fact his table manners (or lack of them) made them dislike him even more.