"Ah, Minister Crouch… and… His Excellency Johnny Silverhand."
The girlish, high-pitched voice made goosebumps rise all over John's arms. He looked up.
Even though she was wearing red judicial robes, the pink collar underneath was still visible.
A wide, sagging face — and that affected little-girl voice was coming out of the mouth of such a middle-aged woman.
The visual impact hit John like a Stunning Spell.
At that moment, when Umbridge saw Johnny Silverhand approaching, her face lit up with delight.
"Your Excellency, Johnny Silverhand! I believe this is our first official meeting," she giggled, extending her hand. "Dolores Jane Umbridge."
John very much wanted to turn around and leave, but remembering he needed Umbridge to take the fall later, he reluctantly reached out and gave the lightest of touches before quickly pulling his hand back. He said mildly, "You sent me a letter. I saw it."
That sentence made Umbridge all the more thrilled.
Barty Crouch wore a deep maroon robe, with a finely embroidered silver "W" over his left chest — the standard attire for everyone in the Wizengamot courtroom.
Everyone except John.
His deep purple robes stood out starkly from the others, and the silver mask on his face caused a stir, several people whispering among themselves.
Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was also present. She frowned and said, "Johnny Silverhand, you are not a member of the Wizengamot."
Barty Crouch spoke up, "Mr. Johnny Silverhand is here at my invitation, in the capacity of a Ministry consultant."
"With all due respect, I've never heard of a Ministry consultant before," Amelia retorted.
"Now there is," Barty Crouch said. "Mr. Johnny Silverhand has provided us with a great deal of information on Death Eaters — something you're quite aware of."
He cut Amelia off, the tension between them thick enough to slice.
The fact that Barty had managed to capture a large group of Death Eaters was one of the main reasons the public had started believing his grand promises.
And if the intelligence had all come from Johnny Silverhand, then this 'Ministry Consultant' title made perfect sense.
Amelia cast a long, probing look at the silver mask but said no more.
Others in the Wizengamot also fell silent. Several of them even gave John friendly smiles.
John glanced around. The room's walls were made of dark stone. In the center sat a chair with iron chains on its armrests.
Roughly fifty people were present, seated on tiered benches rising row by row.
"Your Excellency Johnny Silverhand, if you don't mind, you can sit here,"
A voice called out — it was Damocles Alex Belby, who also held a seat in the Wizengamot.
John walked over and sat beside him, his voice low and hoarse: "Seems like you're quite interested in the Savior."
Damocles, clad in red judicial robes and leaning on a cane, smiled and said, "The only person to survive the Dark Lord's Killing Curse — it's hard not to be intrigued."
John made no comment and instead asked, "How's your Blood Curse thesis coming along?"
"It's under review. I submitted it under your real name — after all, you don't need too much glory these days," Damocles replied quietly.
John didn't really mind the use of his real name.
After a short wait, someone walked into the dimly lit chamber.
Damocles stopped talking and turned his gaze toward the newcomer, eyes gleaming with fervor.
Harry Potter.
Due to the poor lighting in the room and John's seat being higher up, Harry didn't notice him.
Harry walked in with heavy steps, even though both Hermione and Mr. Weasley had assured him that the Ministry wouldn't convict him.
He had only acted in self-defense.
Still, the atmosphere of this place made his legs tremble slightly.
He had seen this place before — in the Pensieve in the headmaster's office.
He had watched Barty Crouch sit in that very spot, banging the gavel to send one Death Eater after another to Azkaban.
Now, he was the one about to sit in that chair.
Under the silent gaze of the Wizengamot, the pressure mounted sharply.
"Harry Potter," Barty Crouch spoke, "take your seat."
"I trust the Wizengamot informed you where you were supposed to go?"
"Yes, sir."
Harry was extremely nervous — after all, he was just a fifteen-year-old kid.
He lowered his gaze, his footsteps echoing loudly across the floor.
He carefully perched on the edge of the chair, the chains clinking with a metallic jingle.
Thankfully, what he had seen in the Pensieve didn't happen — the chains didn't spring to life and bind him.
A wave of dizziness and nausea surged in his head. Forcing himself to stay calm and alert, he looked up.
Due to the dim lighting, he couldn't make out the faces of many Wizengamot members.
That obscurity only made the atmosphere feel more oppressive.
Barty Crouch sat in the center, with Amelia on one side and a woman who looked like an overbearing aunt on the other.
Harry also spotted Percy — he'd heard Percy and Mr. Weasley were on very bad terms.
Percy was attending as the recorder, and Crouch was using this opportunity to lay the groundwork for Percy's future as a member of the Wizengamot.
Harry wanted to greet him, since Percy was the only familiar face in the room.
But Percy didn't even spare him a glance.
Though rational, Percy still held a grudge over the Heinrich incident.
"The August 12th hearing," Barty Crouch's voice rang out strong and clear, "to deliberate the case of Harry James Potter, residing at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, for violations of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy."
"Questioners: Minister for Magic, Barty Crouch;
Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Susan Bones;
Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Jane Umbridge.
Court Recorder: Percy Ignatius Weasley."
As Crouch finished speaking, Albus Dumbledore stepped forward with composed strides and said calmly, "Witness for the defense: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
He wore robes of deep black and midnight blue, his face serene and peaceful.
He walked to Harry's side and lifted his head.
Barty Crouch looked at him intently and said, "We'll need a comfortable chair."
"No need to trouble yourself," Dumbledore replied as he flicked his wand gently. A plush armchair appeared out of thin air.
He sat down and looked in one direction.
From that side, the silver mask was watching him.
Seeing that Dumbledore had brought his own chair, Crouch said no more and turned his attention back to Harry, holding up a sheet of parchment and reading aloud, "The accused is charged with the following offenses:
The defendant had previously received an official written warning from the Ministry of Magic for a similar offense. This time, despite being fully aware that his actions were illegal, he still cast a Patronus Charm at 9:23 p.m. on August 2nd, in a Muggle residential area, in full view of Muggles.
This act constitutes a violation of Clause Three of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery of 1875, and Article Thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."
After reading, Barty Crouch turned to Harry and asked, "You are Harry James Potter, residing at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
Crouch continued, "Three years ago, you received an official warning from the Ministry of Magic for the illegal use of magic?"
"Yes, but that was because of a house-elf," Harry tried to explain.
Crouch stared at him and asked, "And two years ago, you caused a Muggle to inflate. What was the reason for that?"
"That was because—because…" Harry remembered how, in third year, Minister Fudge had laughed and told him that the Ministry wouldn't send a young wizard to Azkaban just for inflating his aunt.
But Crouch didn't let him continue, pressing on, "Have you had any other such incidents?"
Harry immediately thought of that time before starting at Hogwarts, when he made the glass at the reptile house vanish and let the snake escape.
"That was a dangerous act!" Crouch's tone grew sharp and loud. "This is your third violation of Ministry regulations."
With his rich experience in interrogation, Crouch applied considerable pressure on Harry.
"You're aware that you're not yet seventeen and forbidden from using magic outside of school? At the time, you were in a densely populated Muggle area, and used magic in the presence of Muggles."
"Yes, because—"
Harry was driven to despair by the relentless questioning, urgently trying to defend himself.
But before he could finish, he was interrupted.
Amelia asked, "You conjured a full Patronus?"
"Yes."
"A corporeal Patronus?"
"A… what?" Harry was a bit confused.
Amelia continued, "Your Patronus has a clear form, not just a wisp of vapor or smoke?"
"Yes," Harry was still unsure of her intention, and answered helplessly, "It's a stag. Every time."
"Every time?"
"Amelia Susan Bones," Barty Crouch interrupted her impatiently, "we are here to conduct an interrogation."
Amelia replied, "It's truly remarkable. For someone his age to cast a proper Patronus, that's very impressive."
The sudden praise left Harry completely lost, while Crouch clearly understood what she was trying to do.
A young wizard with exceptional talent always had a way of leaving a good impression on strangers.
Unhappy, he warned, "You should take a look at another student from Hogwarts — that child could repel a hundred Dementors in third year. What we should be discussing is his use of magic in front of Muggles!"
Amelia shut her mouth.
_________
Our city was hit by a major tornado today. We lost electricity for 10 hours, and now that it's back, it's flickering every couple of minutes.😭
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