“Mr. Potter, many people are not as self-aware as you.” Beside Harry, a tall wizard spoke.
The speaker was a middle-aged man, with short gray hair combed perfectly into place, a slightly balding crown, a short beard, and a face full of authority. At a glance, he was clearly a great figure who had long occupied a high position.
“And you are?” Harry asked curiously.
“Barty Crouch.” The man’s voice was loud and deep, as if his name ought to inspire admiration.
“Oh…” Harry drew out the sound.
Barty Crouch frowned. He could not sense the slightest hint of respect in Harry’s tone.
“You’re the one… the former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, right? That was an important position.”
A faint smile appeared on Barty Crouch’s face. “Indeed…”
Then he heard Harry continue, “You’re the one… whose son was a Death Eater, right? The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement whose son was a Death Eater?”
“What a pity. I heard Ministers for Magic are usually promoted from that position. I wonder if that’s true.” Harry’s expression was full of thirst for knowledge.
Rage flared in Barty Crouch’s eyes. This was an eternal pain in his heart, but he was too embarrassed to lose his temper.
Harry saw Sirius and suddenly acted as if he had just remembered something, saying loudly, “You’re the one… who threw Sirius Black into Azkaban Prison over ten years ago without a trial. So that was you. I heard you were unrivaled for a time thanks to that decisive method of yours. How did you end up with something like this? Your son really screwed you over, huh…”
The hundred or so people behind them all heard this.
In truth, they all knew these facts, but no one dared to deliberately mention them in front of Barty Crouch. Now that someone had suddenly said them out loud, they could not help looking over one after another.
Barty Crouch’s body was trembling. He was almost unable to control himself.
He regretted it beyond words. Why had he insisted on speaking to Harry? Now he had no way to step down gracefully.
At that moment, Cornelius Fudge entered.
And so this little episode was brushed aside. Barty Crouch quietly breathed a sigh of relief and silently moved away from Harry.
…
Cornelius Fudge, as Minister for Magic, was actually also one of the interrogators of the wizarding court.
What a chaotic bureaucratic system. The division of duties was not clear at all.
It was equivalent to a Muggle prime minister also serving as a judge of the Supreme Court. Absolutely ridiculous.
However, this should be Cornelius Fudge’s final moment of glory… though he himself had not realized it yet.
Fudge sat behind the table at the front, with the stern-faced witch and the pink toad on either side of him.
The courtroom fell silent.
“All right, everyone, silence… Are we ready?” he called toward someone at the very edge.
“Yes, sir.” In the first row on the right side of the room, in the seat closest to the table above, Percy Weasley hurriedly lifted his backside off the bench and stood, answering respectfully.
“Mm.” Fudge nodded slightly.
Percy Weasley looked like a eunuch who had received an emperor’s command, his face filled with shared honor and disgrace.
He sat upright, his left hand pressing down on the parchment, his right hand holding a quill, then looked at Minister Fudge with a focused and serious gaze, waiting for him to continue issuing orders.
“The hearing of January third officially begins,” Fudge said, putting on a convincing show.
Harry felt something was missing. After thinking for a moment, he concluded that if Fudge could slap a block of wood like an ancient magistrate, it would look even more authentic.
“We are hearing the case of Sirius Black concealing his identity as a Death Eater, joining… Voldemort’s faction, passing information to Voldemort, murdering wizards from the Ministry’s side, slaughtering innocent Muggles, and betraying the British wizarding world!”
“Interrogators: Minister for Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Susan Bones, Senior Undersecretary Dolores Jane Umbridge. Court scribe: Percy Ignatius Weasley…”
Although no one looked at Percy, he still shifted slightly and straightened his back even more. He coughed twice in a voice only he could hear, as if what awaited him was the delivery of some important speech.
This was the first time his name had resounded in the wizarding world.
Although he was still only an insignificant court scribe, it was foreseeable that this name would sooner or later thunder in the ears of all wizards. Percy Weasley’s complexion flushed with confidence.
“Witness for the defense: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” Fudge read out the name with some disgust. It was unclear whether this was because the name was too long and Fudge disliked it, or because Fudge hated the wizard who bore that name.
Dumbledore calmly walked out from the shadows and stood beside Sirius Black.
He wore a dark blue-black robe, his face utterly serene.
Dumbledore walked to the center of the courtroom and looked at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles perched on the bridge of his hooked nose. His long silver-white beard and hair glittered under the torchlight.
Harry noticed an amusing scene. Behind Dumbledore, the roughly fifty Wizengamot members wore all kinds of expressions. Some looked disgusted, some annoyed, some afraid, and some delighted…
Harry had previously thought that after Dumbledore had been in the Wizengamot for so long, everyone inside should have already been brainwashed by him and become his loyal followers. It seemed that was not the case.
In the wizarding court, trials were conducted in the form of interrogators asking questions. Members of the judging panel could also ask questions.
The person being interrogated answered the questions and explained them one by one.
The two sides went back and forth until there were no more questions to ask.
Then the verdict was decided by a show of hands.
If more than half raised their hands to declare the accused guilty, then he was guilty.
Otherwise, he was innocent.
…
“The accused, Sirius Black… Thirteen years ago, did you participate in the battle that resulted in the deaths of thirteen Muggles?” Fudge did not ask questions that could prove Black’s innocence at all. Instead, he asked confusing, borderline questions that muddied the waters.
Sirius replied, “Yes, but…”
“You were born into a noble pure-blood family, the Black family… and it is widely known that the Black family all joined Voldemort. Is that correct?” Fudge guided the wizards’ thoughts with malicious intent.
Sirius glared at Fudge. “Yes, but that has nothing to do with my—”
Fudge interrupted him. “Your witness, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, once testified that you personally told him you were the Secret-Keeper for James and Lily Potter. Did this happen?”
Hearing those two names, Sirius fell silent.
In the shadows, Fudge revealed the faintest trace of a smile.
This time, he was in no hurry. He leisurely waited for Sirius’s answer.
Sirius raised his head and said, “That’s right, but there are things you should also know…”
Fudge waved his hand. “All right, we already know. Answer the other questions first…”
“On the day you were arrested, you kept muttering to yourself, ‘I killed them…’ Was that true?” Fudge suddenly barked.
Sirius Black was instantly returned to that night when he had seen their bodies. He nodded subconsciously.
Beautiful. Checkmate! Fudge smiled.
Fudge looked at the group of Wizengamot members and gave some wizards a look. In a voice neither light nor heavy, he said, “I have already asked what needed to be asked. You have all heard it clearly. I believe you all have some idea how this should be judged.”
“Yes…”
“Mm…”
“Ah…”
“That’s right…”
“That is how it should be…”
Some wizards began whispering among themselves. Those wizards who had shown displeased expressions behind Dumbledore earlier all nodded.
Among them, a short, plump wizard with a bushy black beard leaned close to the ear of a curly-haired witch beside him and whispered. The witch looked at Dumbledore, revealed a mocking expression, and nodded.
Harry heard the word “judged” and lifted his head blankly. “Ah, is it over?”
He had only zoned out for a short while. He had thought it had not even started yet. He had not expected it to be over already.
Harry looked approvingly at Fudge, whose face was flushed with success, and said, “So this is the interrogation technique of the Minister for Magic? He can turn white into black. No wonder Fudge ascended to the throne while you could only sit on the cold bench in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I really underestimated him. Don’t you think so, Director Crouch… Eh? Why are you standing so far away from me?”
…
Author’s Note: I previously got Cornelius Fudge’s name wrong and wrote it as Fudge Cornelius. My apologies.
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