Chapter 586 Trial

On the first morning of the Easter holiday, Felix changed into a purple robe and looked at himself in the mirror for a long time. This color obviously did not suit him. He could tell from Valen's chattering and gloating.

He quietly modified some details to make the color of the clothes darker. Finally, he reached out and smoothed the cloth with the silver letter "W" embroidered on the left chest. Finally, it was barely acceptable.

There was no way. This dress was issued when he became a member of the Wizengamot, for him to use when attending the formal trial.

Felix walked out of the room and came to the headmaster's office. After knocking on the door, he looked at Dumbledore behind the desk in surprise - he was pale, looked weak and tired, and even had a few more wrinkles on his face.

"Albus, you scared me." Felix said, and he immediately thought of many things.

He recalled carefully that this change seemed to be a gradual transition. It was not obvious at first, and he didn't notice it at all. . . But he hadn't seen Dumbledore in the past week, and the effect was immediately apparent.

"It's not easy to hide from Voldemort." Dumbledore said with a smile.

"Well," Felix had to admit that he made sense, "I'm just afraid that our own people will be scared first..."

The two of them appeared in the Ministry of Magic through the fireplace in the headmaster's office.

Felix looked around the magnificent main hall of the Ministry of Magic. He did not find any traces of the battle in February, but some details were indeed different from before: the position of the fountain statue of the magic brothers in the center of the hall had changed slightly, probably because the part that could not be restored by magic was rebuilt during the renovation.

They came to the golden door at the end of the hall and met Mad-Eye Moody and Professor Marchbank who were waiting for the elevator together.

"I've been looking forward to this day!" Professor Marchbank turned his back to them and spoke to Moody in a hoarse voice, "It is necessary to cheer people up. Yes, I noticed that some people have been a little pessimistic recently. I really don't know what they are thinking. It's obviously much better than last time."

Moody picked his ears and said in a rough voice, "You are right."

Felix silently slowed down his pace and let Dumbledore walk in front - "Dumbledore?" Professor Marchbank's attention moved away from Moody and stared at Dumbledore's face carefully, "You look bad! No wonder, the mysterious man has been making trouble outside recently. You are the president of the International Confederation of Wizards, you must be very annoyed."

Dumbledore smiled and agreed.

They took the elevator to the ninth floor and walked along a dimly lit corridor. Felix glanced at the black door of the Department of Mysteries at the end of his sight and said nothing. Then the group turned to the gap on the left side of the corridor and stepped down the stairs, finally reaching the tenth floor.

There were voices near the stairs——

"No need to adjust the order." Ms. Bones said with a somewhat dissatisfied voice, "Since those people want to listen, let them stay a few more days." She heard footsteps, looked up and saw several people, smiling and walking towards them.

Kingsley nodded at them and left in the opposite direction. The torches on the stone wall dragged his shadow out a long, constantly jumping track, and he finally disappeared behind a heavy wooden door.

Here, Ms. Bones greeted Dumbledore with concern, and then led them to their destination.

"Are you talking about the Ministry of Magic of other countries just now?" Felix asked.

"Yes." Ms. Bones snorted from her nose, and she lowered her voice and said: "They united to put pressure, I have to show some gesture. But they are like observers of the International Confederation of Wizards, they only have the right to watch, they can't speak or vote."

"Here we are."

She stopped in front of a gloomy black door, turned the iron handle, and noisy voices came out from the dark room.

There were about thirty people inside. Felix narrowed his eyes and found an acquaintance. He walked over, "Damocles?" The potion master Damocles Belby looked up, a little surprised at first, and then showed an expression of sudden enlightenment.

"Of course, you are also a member of the Wizengamot, but you didn't come to the previous gatherings."

Felix chatted with him for a few words. In the middle, several wizards sitting on the long benches ran over to greet him, but this place was not suitable for socializing. Felix sat next to Belby and stared at the chained chair standing alone in the center with interest.

Felix looked around and found that the seats today were very particular.

The courtroom was built with black light-absorbing stones, and the surrounding light was dimmed, as if deliberately creating a gloomy and solemn atmosphere. The overall layout of the room was like a sunken concave platform. There were benches arranged downward in a stepped manner around it, and some people were sitting on three sides. Like Felix, they were wearing purple robes. These people were all members of the Wizengamot.

There were also some reporters holding quills and parchment papers. They seemed cautious and low-key, and even spoke carefully. Felix saw Rita Skeeter.

He could find familiar faces on the three seats, but on the last seat, which was the back of the black chair with chains, there was a group of strangers sitting in a clear distinction. They were also dressed formally, but the badges and embroidered words on their bodies showed that they came from different organizations. Felix knew that these people should be the so-called "observers" of the Ministry of Magic of various countries.

Ten minutes later, people kept coming in.

"Knock, knock, knock."

The sound of a cane hitting the floor echoed in the room. Felix looked up and saw a man with thick and fluffy hair striding in, with his cane constantly poking the ground. It was Rufus Scrimgeour.

He walked to Ms. Bones and whispered something to her. Bones nodded slightly.

They each found a seat and sat down. "It's time to start." Scrimgeour's low voice echoed in the courtroom. He had taken over the position vacated by Madam Bones when she became Minister of Magic, and was now the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

As was customary, he was to preside over this trial.

His words were like a signal, and as soon as they fell, the door in the corner opened and three people walked in. Two tall and burly guards walked into the courtroom with a short man between them. The man was so short that he was lifted up in the air like a chicken, constantly tapping the ground with his toes. The guards

stuffed the short man into a chair in the center of the courtroom, and then stood on either side. The chains on the ground rose high like snakes, and the man shuddered in fear.

"Not for the time being," said Scrimgeour, and the chains fell to the ground obediently. He began to read a document in a low, emotionless voice: "Bart Hughes, a Norwegian wizard, was accused of smuggling contraband in his own country and was involved in two Muggle attacks. In February of this year, you participated in the attack on the British Ministry of Magic and were caught on the spot. The evidence is conclusive and the behavior is heinous - do you intend to refute these charges before the verdict?"

The short man seemed to be frightened and did not move in his chair. Felix could understand him. Most people around him were hidden in the darkness. The flickering torches occasionally showed a static picture: pairs of eyes stared at his face, and then suddenly disappeared. From

time to time, the air could be heard with the sound of "rustling" of flipping through documents. The psychological pressure brought by these factors was indeed very great.

After a few more seconds -

"If there is no objection -"

"Wait, wait!" The short man suddenly shouted. He tried to stand up from the chair, but was pushed back by two guards. The chain dragging on the ground also burst into a golden light. The man shrank back and leaned back. He raised a sinister face and tried to open his eyes wide to stare at the firelight reflected on the wall, trying to catch Scrimgeour's position.

He gasped and said, "I have objections, I do! I, I am under the Imperius Curse -"

Behind him, the group of observers from various countries whispered.

"Nonsense!" Scrimgeour shouted, his brown hair like a lion's mane standing up. "The Ministry of Magic has set up anti-thief waterfalls in the fireplaces and between the floors. It will wash away the effects of the spell. If you really were under the Imperius Curse, how do you explain that you were knocked down by the Ministry of Magic Aurors?"

The short man opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.

Scrimgeour raised his head and looked around. "The facts are clear. Members of the jury, please raise your hands if you think he is guilty--"

People on the benches raised their arms one after another. With the help of the dim and swaying firelight in the room, the long shape of their arms was very conspicuous. The short man collapsed in his chair.

"The charges are established. Bart Hughes, you are sentenced to ten years in Azkaban. After serving your sentence, the British Ministry of Magic will hand you over to the Norwegian Ministry of Magic, where you will continue to atone for the crimes you committed in your own country!"

"Bang!" The gavel fell heavily.

Bart Hughes was taken away with a look of dismay.

After a brief exchange of words, the guards brought in several dark wizards. These people were obviously the ones who attacked the Ministry of Magic. It didn't take long for them to be convicted, just like Bart Hughes. It wasn't until almost noon that the main event began.

Two men who looked somewhat similar were brought in.

"Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange." Scrimgeour said in a low, angry voice, "They once teamed up with Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr. to kidnap an Auror couple at the end of the First War and used the Cruciatus Curse to force them to reveal the whereabouts of the You-Know-Who. They were guilty of heinous crimes and were sentenced to life imprisonment. They escaped from Azkaban a year ago and became the You-Know-Who's lackeys and accomplices again. They were suspected of being involved in many riots and were ordered to attack Futureworld in Diagon Alley in February. They were caught on the spot, and the evidence was conclusive."

The two men were pale, and the slightly fatter man twitched his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but he only made vague trembling sounds from his mouth.

Scrimgeour did not ask the jury to raise their hands this time. There was no warmth in his yellow eyes. "There is no doubt, gentlemen and ladies, these two men will be sentenced to life imprisonment, and their names will rot there with their bodies."

Another person was brought in.

"Mulciber, Selwyn, Jugson, Nott, your crimes are the same as the Lestrange brothers, escaping from prison, murder, and rebellion. According to the law, you will be sentenced to life -"

"Wait, wait!" a voice suddenly said.

The gavel dropped by Scrimgeour hung in the air, "Selwyn? Do you want to defend yourself or beg for forgiveness? After doing those evil things?"

"I, I admit, I am guilty!" Selwyn licked his lips and stammered, "But I hope the jury can give me another chance - I know some names -" The tall man next to him suddenly rushed towards him, "You bastard!" "Guards! Pull him away, pull Jugson away." Scrimgeour roared loudly.

Selwyn sat on the chair cowering. He shrieked, "I'm willing to be a witness!"

"Selwyn!" Jugson struggled and roared, "You dare to betray the Dark Lord? Do you think this is the end? We are only locked up for a while, and he is still outside! Still outside!"

"Take them away! Take them away!" Scrimgeour roared. The guards did as they were told, and finally only Selwyn was left.

"What do you have to say?" Scrimgeour asked coldly.

"I--" Selwyn's face was pale. It was obvious that the threat that Jugson made before leaving was very effective. He said with rapid breathing: "You will protect me, right?"

"That depends on the weight of your evidence." Ms. Bones said seriously, "The information we have is far beyond your imagination."

Selwyn pursed his lips and said, "I understand... I know someone, Umbridge, Dolores Umbridge."

"She was arrested on the same day as you and is currently receiving treatment. And we also know that it was you who introduced the mysterious man to her."

Selwyn widened his eyes and tilted his body, "No, no..."

"No?" Scrimgeour said harshly: "We have solid evidence! You approached her as a relative and promised her the position of Minister of Magic!"

"Impossible!" Selwyn panicked, his eyes moving constantly: "How could you know?" There was a look of understanding in his eyes, "I know, you must have another undercover! Who is he?"

People were talking about it, and they - including those reporters and observers - looked at Ms. Bones and Scrimgeour like sharks smelling blood, but there was no emotion on the faces of the two. But these words successfully attracted the attention of the people present. Did the Ministry of Magic really secretly plant spies a long time ago? Who could it be?

Finally here. Felix thought.

Scrimgeour did not answer him, and the trial continued.

"I know two more!" Selwyn gritted his teeth and said: "Avery! Avery is a Death Eater, and his nephew Chesterton."

"They have been arrested. If this is all you know -"

"Wait!" Selwyn's eyes struggled. He knew quite a few people, but now he had to come up with some important names to make a final decision. "Snape! Severus Snape!"

"He is not under discussion. Albus Dumbledore vouched for him."

"No, you were deceived by him. I promise--" "

Promise? With your credibility?" Scrimgeour's mouth showed sarcasm and ridicule.

Selwyn showed a desperate expression.

In his mind, Snape was definitely a true Death Eater - because Snape had successfully gained the Dark Lord's trust despite being highly suspected. This almost meant that he was more trustworthy than any other Death Eater.

Only Death Eaters knew how terrible the Dark Lord was. If the Dark Lord had not repeatedly shown his ruthlessness to his subordinates, Selwyn would never have betrayed him.

He stared at Scrimgeour and felt that he was a complete fool. But there was no way, as he had one less card in his hand.

"Malfoy! Lucius Malfoy! He is also a Death Eater." He shouted desperately.

Scrimgeour's yellow eyes were mixed with disgust and contempt. He sneered and said, "You are so unlucky. Someone has also vouched for him. This time it is Mr. Felix Hep."

Everyone present looked at Felix, who looked back calmly.

The expression on Selwyn's face changed from shock, realization to disbelief. So that's it. He cried out, "He's the spy!?"

Everything made sense... The Ministry of Magic was very confident in their source of information, which meant that the spy had a high enough position among the Death Eaters. A string of names flashed through his mind, but he never expected that this person would be Malfoy.

Not only him, but most of the people present did not expect it.

The invited reporters were so excited that their hearts were pounding. Rita Skeeter's eyes were shining, and her feather pen danced a string of afterimages. Big news, absolutely big news! The patriarch of the Malfoy family was first confirmed to be a Death Eater, and then there was a reversal - he was actually a spy.

And this spy was probably developed by Felix Hepp, who made Malfoy, who was so powerful in the wizarding world, a spy... When Skeeter thought of the inside story, she was so excited that she trembled all over.

The mysterious man must be pissed off. She thought as she wrote.