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Chapter 888: Dumbledore and Fudge's Contest
🕑 Added 2023-09-30 11:17:30 +0000 UTC“You’re late.” A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.
“Sorry,” said Harry nervously. “I ... we didn’t know the time had changed."
He dropped his gaze to the two chairs in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains.
He had seen those chains spring to life and bind whoever sat between them.
Harry looked up again, and there were about fifty people, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes with an elaborately worked silver W on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him and Evan, some with very austere expressions, others looks of frank curiosity.
In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.
Fudge was a portly man who often sported a lime-green bowler hat, though today he had dispensed with it; he had dispensed too with the indulgent smile he had once worn when he spoke to Evan and Harry. Instead, he wore a cold expression, to make apathetic people feel scared. Maybe that was his true face.
A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair sat on Fudge’s left; she wore a monocle and looked forbidding.
On Fudge’s right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back on the bench that her face was in shadow.
“That is not the Wizengamot’s fault,” said Fudge. “An owl was sent to you this morning."
"Obviously, we’ve not received a letter from the Wizengamot, Mr. Minister!" Evan looked around, and his eyes fell on Fudge too. "In fact, we probably did not think that an underage using magic and a matter of the authenticity of reports would actually be tried by the Wizengamot, the High Court of Law and Parliament. I have read a lot on this subject, but this has never been mentioned in books."
There was an awkward silence, and Evan noticed several wizards moving nervously in their chairs.
They didn't expect that Evan would say something like that, and they were not prepared at all.
Obviously, his words hit the point.
If this incident were to be spread today, it would be a shame for the Ministry of Magic and the Wizengamot to set up such a battle against the two young wizards.
"Also, if I remember correctly, our special correspondent Rita Skeeter applied to the Ministry of Magic to report on this trial, but I don’t see her." Evan continued, pursuing victory.
"Her application was not approved. Don't think I don't know what you plan to do," said Fudge irritably.
"Our plan is to truthfully and objectively report the detailed progress of this case. As far as I know, cases of this level can allow others to accompany and observe. For the sake of fairness, the Ministry of Magic does not seem to have the right to reject Rita’s report," said Evan, smiling from the corner of his mouth.
"Don’t remind us what to do, you..."
"Minister!" the witch on the right next to him reminded softly, she showed a toad-like face forward, "I hope you two can sit down first, Mr. Mason, we have to judge Potter's use of magic first. You can watch, but please keep silent."
"No problem, obviously, you have the final say here," said Evan.
There was another awkward silence, and his footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor.
Harry followed him, and when he sat gingerly on the edge of the chair the chains clinked rather threateningly but did not bind him.
He swallowed, feeling dizzy and nauseous. He looked at Evan, then looked up at the people seated at the bench above.
In just a few seconds, Fudge and Umbridge seemed to have agreed that, regardless of Evan, Harry should be convicted first.
As long as Harry was proved to have used magic illegally, then Evan's report was naturally false. Thus, it would be much easier to solve everything.
Otherwise, if Evan continued to ask questions like this, today's trial was likely to become a joke.
Evan asked two questions in a row. Many members of the Wizengamot were already getting uncomfortable. They felt that the show of force against two children today was indeed excessive. They did not approve of Fudge's doing this, and now, a child was pointing it out to their faces.
“Very well,” said Fudge angrily, trying not to look at Evan. “The accused being present ... finally ... let us begin."
"By the way, are you ready?" he called down the row.
"Yes, sir," said an eager familiar voice.
Evan squinted and saw Ron's brother Percy sitting at the very edge of the front bench.
Harry also looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came.
Percy’s eyes, behind his horn-rimmed glasses, were fixed on his parchment, a quill poised in his hand.
“Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,” said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, “into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
“Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley..."
"… Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind them, and Harry turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.
Evan also turned his head and saw Dumbledore striding over serenely.
He seemed to have just Apparated, and he didn’t know how he’d calculated the time so just right.
He was wearing long midnight-robes and a perfectly calm expression.
His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Evan and Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.
In the next second, the members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore.
Some looked very annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.
At the sight of Dumbledore, Evan knew he didn't need to say anything more today. He could just sit and watch a good show.
When Harry saw Dumbledore, a powerful emotion rose in his chest, making him feel at ease and full of hope, just like the feeling that Phoenix song once gave him. He wanted to look at Dumbledore’s eyes, but Dumbledore was not looking his way; he was continuing to look up at the obviously flustered Fudge.
This was the most direct frontal contest between him and Fudge. It had not yet started, but in terms of momentum, Fudge had already lost!
