"The trial on February 13th," Fudge said in a booming voice, and the broad, square-jawed witch beside him began to take notes hurriedly, "The trial of Caliban Mortos in violation of the Auror Code of Conduct and the International Statute of Secrecy."
"Interrogator: Minister of Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge.
Trial Recorder: Dolores Jane Umbridge."
"Defendant: Caliban Mortos."
Fudge picked up a stack of documents and casually pulled out the top one:
"Mortos, as an Auror, I have to admit." Fudge cleared his throat, and there was a hint of forced respect in his voice, as if someone was pressing his head to admit this.
"You have indeed demonstrated extremely high professionalism in your work.
The cases you have solved and the dangerous wizards you have arrested are beyond the reach of even our most experienced Aurors. All of us at the Ministry of Magic have you to thank..."
Fudge didn't miss it anymore.
Who wrote this crappy manuscript? Is this some kind of commendation meeting?
"Why aren't you praising me anymore? I'm listening."
Mortos' voice rang out—and Fudge heard a chuckle from the crowd.
"Silence! Silence!" He had to emphasize this point again, glaring at the man chained to the iron chair.
"You don't seem to understand what you've done wrong! Do you understand the situation?"
Fudge took a deep breath and shouted angrily,
"As an Auror, you should be well aware of what's against the law. Yet, you deliberately and knowingly committed this crime at 3:12 PM on February 12th, in a downtown area inhabited by Muggles! Less than a hundred meters underground! Using magic powerful enough to cause a magnitude 5 earthquake! Mortus, are you aware of what's happening?"
"Don't yell so loudly, I can hear you."
Damon raised an eyebrow, feeling that listening to this idiot was a waste of time—hmm, this iron chair was incredibly uncomfortable. Damon subconsciously leaned back—this specialized interrogation chair, clearly completely insulated from magic, was quietly deforming in his mind. The deliberately uncomfortably straight seat actually extended into a U-shaped cushion.
Everyone saw this, their expressions distorted.
But none of them spoke.
Fudge saw it too, but he convinced himself it was unimportant and could be ignored.
"Your actions have seriously violated Articles 13 and 17 of the International Confederation of Magicians' Statute of Secrecy. You know—"
"Before you convict me, I'd like to ask—" Damon suddenly interrupted Fudge's trial. "Since this black market you mentioned is so close to the city of London, why is it still operating there?"
"—what did you say?" Fudge was stunned.
It wasn't that he hadn't heard clearly, but he was actually questioning me? A criminal?
"I say, if there wasn't a 'huge black market' a hundred meters below the city of London, then I wouldn't have to cause 'huge commotion', right?"
This time no one laughed.
They had a premonition of what was about to happen. The hand on the table quietly withdrew and once again grasped the wand hidden in the large black robe.
"Is this question important?" Fudge's voice echoed through the hall. "We are discussing your problem now, not—"
"Is this question not important?" Damon replied softly, his attitude still carefree.
In the darkness, Dumbledore looked in Damon's direction, his expression a little more uneasy. Damon, what are you going to do?" Are you going to defy the entire Ministry of Magic in a place like this?
Amelia's expression grew grave. This conversation couldn't continue like this; everything would go haywire.
"Of course it's a question," Fudge paused.
He wanted to say it wasn't important, at least not right now, but the words wouldn't come out.
"Interesting, isn't it? I was the one who busted a criminal ring hiding in downtown London, and yet, in the end, I've become a criminal myself?"
Damon's voice continued, Fudge alone in his conversation.
He let out a nasty sneer, glancing around at the Wizengamot members, hoping they'd get the joke.
"Yes, yes, I knew we'd hear that kind of nonsense."
"Do you think the legitimate outcome justifies the process? Do you think catching a Dark wizard justifies disregarding the International Statute of Secrecy?
Mortus, we're not barbarians! We're law enforcers, representing the order and image of the entire wizarding world—your actions are a slap in the face of us all!"
It's precisely your arrogance that we're judging! "
"Am I the arrogant one?" Damon laughed, "or is it someone else?"
"Enough, enough!" Fudge interrupted Damon with an arrogant look on his face, "Mortos, it seems that you have no awareness of your crimes and no sense of responsibility. I am very sorry and disappointed!
For this reason, your sentence must be extended!
Now, based on the crimes you have committed, I will sentence you to Azkaban for twenty years! I hope that during this time--"
"Shut up, Fudge."
Damon sneered and interrupted him with disdain, with more anger in his heart-knowing the faces of these people is one thing, and actually facing them is another thing.
"What did you say? How dare you talk to me like this?" Fudge's face flashed with surprise, and then he became more angry than ever!
"A beater-do you know who you are talking to? Do you know who solved the mess you caused for you? Do you know how many butts I have cleaned up for you? "
Fudge's voice roared throughout the hall, with a smug look in his heart - Mortos was so arrogant, that was just right, this way, he would never be able to turn over again!
As he spoke, he observed the expressions of the people around him and found that all of them had tense faces, obviously feeling as angry as he did!
Yes, Mortos! Reflect on your mistakes in Azkaban!
"Enough, Fudge, you are not as great as you think, and you didn't save those Muggles. I was the one who saved them."
"Mortos, it looks like we can't reach a consensus?" The expression on Fudge's face became more and more mocking.
He spread his hands pretentiously, he believed that he must look very handsome now - it was a pity that this trial was not open to the public, otherwise once the photos were released, perhaps this moment would be regarded as one of the key moments of the nineteenth century.
"Yes, I'm disappointed in you, and you—" Damon's gaze swept across the room, like a monarch examining his own domain. "I'm deeply disappointed in all of you."
Every member of the Wizengamot lowered their heads wherever his gaze passed, no one daring to meet his gaze.
"How can you keep saying that—"
"I told you to shut up, Fudge!"
Bang!
A pair of leather shoes suddenly slammed heavily onto the long table, the sound like thunder striking everyone's heart!
They looked up in horror and saw the shackles binding Mortus were spontaneously unfastening!
"Dong-dong-dong-dong-dong-dong!"
The leather boots stomped onto the long table, facing everyone, facing Fudge, trampling everyone's dignity underfoot!
"In Merlin's time! Wise and kind wizards walked between the earth and the mountains—" Damon stood atop the long table. He held no wand, but as he danced, an infinite light shone from his hands, illuminating the faces of everyone in the room, their expressions of shock evident.
"—and the first thing they have to do is expel the world's evil parties—the fools—and useless politicians like you!"
Damon walked up to Fudge and kicked the documents in front of him away.
"Merlin believed that wizards should provide assistance to Muggles. To this end, he founded the Order of Merlin to advocate for Muggle rights and at the same time established rules prohibiting the use of magic against Muggles. The Muggles that the Order of Merlin decided to protect cannot be used by you to attack me."
"The Four Giants emerged from the forest, determined to educate the barbaric wizards, and your empty brains are filled with only bloodline and power—your troll-like brains are not worthy of judging me, and I—the reason I don't want to judge you is out of mercy for you!"
His voice was not particularly loud, but as calm as a god issuing a decree.
The wizards in the room all hurried to their feet, their wands tightly gripped, but no one dared to take action. "You believe wizards should coexist peacefully with Muggles? We have an insurmountable barrier between us."
Damon glanced at the strange old man before him and replied with disdain:
"Your closed-mindedness is the thick barrier that has created all this."
"I don't want to hear about evil and justice being two sides, coexisting forever. I will make evil vanish, and justice endure. And all the fools who stand in my way, the sly maggots working in the shadows—no matter what you do, when the wheel of history rolls on, all of you will eventually be eliminated!" Damon
finished speaking in one breath. Seeing the look on Fudge's face, as if he had seen a ghost, he couldn't help but laugh.
He glanced around and saw helplessness and astonishment in Amelia's eyes. As for Dumbledore—he didn't want to look at him. He could let Dumbledore think what he wanted.
Damon turned around and strode away from the long table.
At that moment, he felt an unprecedented sense of exhilaration. His increased power allowed him to finally ignore the constraints of these fools, and he gradually found his own direction—he practiced magic to make his wishes come true!
Not magic that made wishes come true, but using magic to make wishes come true!
What he liked, he
would keep. What he disliked,
he would let it die. What he disliked, he would disappear.
A white, eyeless dragon roared and flew out of his body, but at that moment, the dragon was no longer as lifeless as before. Golden vertical pupils had suddenly appeared on it!
The Patronus Charm and this moment were finally complete.
This was because Damon had understood what he wanted to protect—the war between wizards and Muggles would eventually break out. He wanted to protect his former Muggle self, and his future as a wizard.
His far-sighted vision made him realize that the exposure of wizards was inevitable, and that the development of Muggles would eventually make wizards tremble with fear—even Dumbledore might not be able to prevent this war.
But Damon could, and only he could.
Slowly guiding everything back on track was what he had to do.
It was just that he had to slow it down. At least, in his current capacity, he couldn't do that.
Mortos, it's time to leave.
"Mortos! Where are you going?"
someone suddenly asked.
"If I'm not welcome here, there are other places where I'm welcome, but be careful, because I'll be watching you."
This time, he really left.
No one dared to stop him, even when Fudge's voice rang out after Mortos had completely vanished, "Strike! Where are the Aurors! Catch him!"
"I'm issuing a Level 1 warrant for his arrest! How dare he! How dare he..."
"Shut up, Fudge."
Hearing the familiar tone, Fudge subconsciously flinched, but he quickly realized that the person who had frightened him was gone, and he was the ultimate winner!
So he looked towards the source of the voice and demanded,
"Who is telling me, the Minister of Magic, to shut up? Has the Ministry of Magic become a place where justice is completely unfounded?"
"He's right, shut up, Fudge."
This time, it was a member of the Wizengamot.
He didn't even glance at Fudge, who was still staring in the direction Mortos had left. "We should let him lead everything."
"It might be a little painful, but as he said, it's bound to happen, and no one can stop him."
Fudge eyed the two elders warily, his expression grim, but he remained silent.
After the climax of the trial, only a mess remained.
Many people realized that until now, they had still tightly grasped their wands, even though they dared not cast a single spell against Mortos.
In his presence, their wands offered them no sense of security.
They realized for the first time the immense pressure the Death Eaters endured when facing that man. No wonder more and more Death Eaters were trying to completely wash away the Dark Mark.
To them, wasn't Mortos the equivalent of the civilian wizards facing Voldemort during the war?
"I'm leaving now,"
someone sighed dejectedly and left.
Even if Fudge hadn't declared the meeting over, there were still some follow-up discussions to be had about this trial—for example, whether to issue a warrant for Mortos's arrest or that they had lost an ace striker.
But no one was in the mood to discuss these matters.
"Well, I'm going home too. I'm not in the mood to go to work today. I don't want to be a foolish politician."
Someone chuckled self-deprecatingly and walked away arm in arm with the first person.
Fudge watched the people leaving, feeling that power was slipping away from him, and he could do nothing.
He subconsciously searched for Dumbledore's shadow in the crowd, "Dumbledore, look."
He saw Dumbledore walking towards him, which made Fudge feel relieved.
But he didn't expect the old man to just say a word and leave.
"It's over. I'm going to focus on celebrating Valentine's Day from now on. Don't look for me for the time being."
"Valentine's Day? Dumbledore? What Valentine's Day are you going to celebrate!"
Fudge shouted at Dumbledore's back, but the respectable old man ignored him.
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(End of this chapter)