"Let us begin," Bartemius Crouch announced, his voice cold and clipped, magnified by the chamber's enchantments until it rolled across the hall and pressed the gathering into silence.
"The public hearing of the twenty-eighth of December is hereby called to order." The file cracked open in his hands, and he fixed his eyes on the parchment in rigid concentration.
"Presiding Adjudicator: Bartemius Crouch, formerly Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and formerly Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Chief Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Archmage of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Maverick Caesar, Archmage of the Wizengamot, Master Alchemist, and Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; and myself, Bartemius Crouch, serving as Chief Adjudicator for this hearing."
"Interrogators: all acting Councilors of the British Wizengamot, in full assembly."
He let the formalities settle before continuing, his voice hardening.
"This hearing has been convened under the authority of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, pursuant to Section XII, Clause Seven of the Wizengamot Charter of Justice, and under Article Four of the Magical Due Process Act of 1923, which grants the Minister power to petition for extraordinary review of prior convictions where—" he paused, lifted his eyes, and let them sweep the chamber before finishing, "—grave irregularities are alleged."
"By this authority, the case of Sirius Orion Black is hereby reopened for hearing before this assembly. If there are any present who wish to raise objections as to the legality of this convocation, the jurisdiction of this chamber, or any procedural defect arising under statute, you are entitled under Article Nine, Clause Four of the Charter to voice such objection now—" he paused again, and added in a heavy tone, "even to raise a point of order, or motion of urgency, for it shall be accepted and ruled upon in due course."
By Wizengamot tradition, any Councilor could raise a point of order before a hearing began, though in practice, no one had done so for decades. The custom had long since withered into little more than a line in the rulebook.
With Crouch's declaration, the hush in the chamber gave way to quiet whispers drifting down from the balconies.
"Bartemius…" Fudge muttered with a crooked smile. "Always fussing over rules no one bothers with." He looked sidelong at the two wizards beside him, as though inviting them to share in the jest, but neither Maverick nor Dumbledore so much as twitched, leaving Fudge to stew in silence, uncomfortably aware that he had been left out.
The hall buzzed softly for a full minute, yet no one spoke, and every eye was fixed on the Chief Adjudicator. The pause stretched on, and just when everyone thought he would strike the desk to move the hearing forward, they instead saw him raise his hand and turn to face the three seated behind him.
He lifted his gaze toward the dais, specifically to the center where Dumbledore sat, and in a clear, deliberate voice, he declared—
"I, Bartemius Crouch, Chief Adjudicator and acting member of this Council, raise an objection before this hearing proceeds. In accordance with Council Law, when the Chief Adjudicator himself brings an objection, the matter must be referred to the High Precedent—the presiding authority of the Council. By rank, that authority belongs to you, Speaker Dumbledore. I ask that my argument be heard."
Sitting beside the man in question, Fudge's brow furrowed—slowly at first, as confusion flickered across his face, then deeper, hardening into disbelief. This was not how the script was supposed to go. He parted his lips, ready to cut in, yet no words came, hanging uselessly in his throat.
"What… Bartemius, what is the meaning of this?" he finally barked, his voice echoing through the chamber. Fury and confusion laced every syllable as he leaned forward, glaring at Crouch—because he had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling that the tide of the chamber was about to change, and it would be directly against him.
But Crouch didn't so much as glance at him; his eyes stayed locked on Dumbledore, treating the Minister's outburst as nothing more than background noise.
A ripple of murmurs coursed through the hall. Councilors shifted in their seats, whispering rapidly to one another, while the reporters above scrambled to catch every second. The hearing hadn't even started, yet already it was unfolding like a play too dramatic to miss.
Just as Fudge was about to bark another command, Dumbledore, seated to Maverick's right, gave a subtle nod. With a graceful wave of his hand, a small hammer and tapping instrument materialized before him.
"Very well," Dumbledore said softly. Though scarcely above a murmur, his voice carried with it a quiet authority that filled the hall.
The chamber fell into a tense hush once again. The temporary change of adjudication was now clear to everyone, and all eyes—curious, eager, or suspicious—fixed on Crouch. Then, amid the expectant faces of councilors and guests alike, he finally began to speak.
"Your Excellency... I, Bartemius Crouch, under Article Nine, Clause Four of the Charter, hereby raise a Point of Order in Urgency against Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic... accusing him of abusing his authority on multiple occasions during his tenure. I therefore call upon this council to consider a vote of no confidence—"
The words struck the hall like lightning, before a louder, more frantic shout thundered across the chamber.
"THIS... IS PREPOSTEROUS!"
Fudge shot to his feet, his face crimson, jowls quivering.
"How dare you, Bartemius! I dragged you out of disgrace, gave you the chance to crawl back into public life, and this—this—is how you repay me?"
He jabbed his finger wildly at Crouch, then swung it across the hall, pointing at everyone and no one at once, his voice breaking with rage. "I will not stand for this mockery!"
Spittle flew as he whirled toward his right. "Dumbledore!" he roared. "I demand—under my full authority as Minister of Magic and High Councillor of this assembly—that this farce be ended at once! And that Bartemius Crouch be thrown from this hall immediately!"
Gasps rippled through the chamber like a crashing wave. Murmurs rose in every direction, spreading like wildfire until the whole hall seemed to tremble with voices. From the press gallery above, reporters nearly leapt from their seats, quills scratching across parchment with feverish speed, eyes glittering with the thrill of scandal.
The trial of Sirius Black—the very reason this assembly had been called—seemed, in that instant, all but forgotten.
"You are but one, Cornelius," Crouch shot back coldly, turning toward the dais. "Unless both Speakers agree with you, you cannot halt this proceeding. Furthermore, my point of order in urgency does not fall within the Minister's prerogative to quash. You have no legal right to stop it."
"ENOUGH!" Fudge roared again, his fists shaking as he spun to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, I demand this nonsense be struck down now!"
"The point of order in urgency does indeed stand, Cornelius. It does not fall within ministerial discretion to dismiss it." Dumbledore did not flinch at the Minister's tantrum; he inclined his head ever so slightly, letting his calm, steady voice carry over the rising clamor. "You would be wise to sit down."
"You—"
If looks could harm, both Crouch and Dumbledore would have been in serious trouble by now because Fudge's face had turned a deep, furious red at this point.
He opened his mouth, ready to unleash a torrent of rage, but before he could, the only one at their table who had remained silent until this point—sitting like an amused observer—finally spoke.
"Minister…" Maverick glanced at the fat man and gave a slight gesture to sit. "For a vote of no confidence, doesn't it require half the assembly plus one to pass? Why make such a fuss… or are you afraid half the assembly might not have confidence in you?"
"Caesar… you as well?" Fudge murmured, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, before Maverick's remark finally sank in. That's right, he thought. To remove him from office would require half the assembly plus one—an outcome so unprecedented in Wizengamot history that, probably, he was fussing over nothing.
He cleared his throat, as if rebooting his composure. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. The probability of half the councilors wanting him out was, in his view, almost impossible.
He glanced at Crouch again, and for a brief moment, rage flickered—but this time he swallowed it, seething the words internally.
"Crouch… you will regret this. Who gave you the confidence that such a ridiculous motion as impeaching me would succeed? You are a relic of the past, while I am the Minister of Magic, supported by countless factions within this assembly. You… someone long forgotten, would be a fool to think anyone would back you."
Satisfied, he finally sank back into his chair and gave a nod to Dumbledore, certain this absurd stunt would be crushed in an overwhelming victory.
On the other side, Maverick's lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. Dumbledore mirrored him with a subtle, almost imperceptible smile as well.
"Very well," Dumbledore said, his calm voice amplified across the chamber.
"Following Councilor Bartemius Crouch's point of order in urgency, and pursuant to Article Nine, Clause Four of the Charter, I hereby call upon the assembly to vote, on whether Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic, shall be impeached from his position. Those who wish to present arguments may do so now..."
The hall buzzed with murmurs once again. Everyone speculated where this could lead. Those in the know remained silent, while the unprepared and shocked observers whispered frantically among themselves, trying to make sense of the unfolding scene.
Like Fudge, most believed the motion absurd, never imagining that a vote could actually pass against the Minister of Magic. Within the assembly, three factions vied for influence, and for the motion to succeed, it required the support of at least two factions—half the assembly present plus one. The odds of that happening were slim to none.
And perhaps it was that very belief that kept every councilor silent. Even those taken aback by the unfolding drama dismissed it as little more than a fleeting farce.
Not a single councilor challenged the motion or even questioned the evidence of Fudge's misuse of authority—after all, in their minds, it was a foregone conclusion that the vote would end in Fudge's favor.
Minutes stretched on, each feeling like an eternity, until Dumbledore finally spoke again.
"It appears no one has any arguments to present," Dumbledore's voice rang clearly across the chamber, slicing through the murmurs. "I shall now call upon you, esteemed councilors, to state your standing. Those in favor of impeaching the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, raise your hands. Those who oppose, keep your hands down."
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