They said he was something unnatural. Something wrong. A werewolf, a maledictus, a vampire, they were one thing, Hogwarts had seen its fair share of those. But Sirius Black? Sirius was something else. Something not fully explained by bloodline or magic.

It was the blindness, too still, too calm for someone who couldn’t see. The way he never tripped, never turned his head when someone entered a room, never hesitated before speaking to someone standing silently behind him. They called it unnatural perception. They called it inhuman.

And when that first student disappeared for three days and came back with memory gaps and bite marks he couldn’t explain, they didn’t waste time. They dragged Sirius to the Ministry in the middle of the night. No trial date. No witnesses. Just questions asked like accusations and answers spoken into silence. No one had found anything, of course. Nothing concrete. But suspicion didn't need evidence, it only needed fear. He didn’t ask anyone to believe him. He never had. But he’d been quiet ever since. The only three to stand with him were James, Remus and McGonagall, who treated the boys like her sons.

“They’re still deciding what to do with me,” Sirius sighed. He was sat in the Gryffindor common room with James and Remus, “I’m back for now, Dumbledore fought for me to come back. Innocent until proven guilty, he said.” The boy explained quietly, “I am innocent, by the way.” He added, for good measure. “I didn’t attack anyone.”