Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The courtroom was deathly silent.

All eyes were fixed on Peter's mutilated right hand.

The clean break at the base of the index finger perfectly matches the remains found at the scene twelve years ago.

The "hero" who had died had reappeared before their eyes.

"Merlin's beard..."

"A Wizengamo member muttered, dropping his quill pen to the ground."

Mrs. Longbottom also stood up at this moment: "Fudge! What do you have to say now?!"

Fudge's face was ashen, and his lips moved but he couldn't utter a single word.

Not far away, Felix also quietly took a half step back, trying to hide in the shadows of the crowd.

"quiet!"

Chief Wizard Markbans struck the bronze scales, the sound echoing through the stone walls.

Her aged fingers turned the heavy pages of the legal code: "In accordance with the Wizengamor Trials Ordinance, proceedings are now commenced against Peter Petitrou for the alleged murder of twelve Muggles and for the betrayal of the Potters."

Peter collapsed to the ground like a rag doll, urine staining his robes a dark patch: "I...I was forced...The Dark Lord will kill me..."

"Liar!" Sirius suddenly roared, his chains rattling. "We trusted you so much back then!"

Harry gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He looked at the sleazy man on the ground; this was the man who had caused him to lose his parents.

Sirius Black rotted in Azkaban for ten years—

"The evidence is conclusive."

邓布利多沉稳的声音在审判庭内迴蕩：「根据魔法部1981年11月3日的现场勘察报告第17页第4条记载：『爆炸中心点检测到柳木魔杖残留，经魔杖登记处比对，确认为小矮星彼得所有魔杖的木质成分』」

He waved his wand gently, and a yellowed official document floated in the air, stamped with the seal of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"And regarding the other person's wounds," Dumbledore continued, "the St. Mungo's Medical Examiner's Office clearly states: 'The severed finger cut is a clean, curved shape, consistent with self-inflicted injury, and distinctly different from lacerations caused by an explosion.'"

Fudge's round face was beaded with sweat when he suddenly interrupted in a shrill voice, "These documents have long been archived! Ordinary people shouldn't—"

"Indeed."

Kane Malfoy calmly rose and took a roll of parchment bound with purple silk from his dragon-skin briefcase.

"However, according to Chapter 7, Section 3 of the Ministry of Magic Records Management Regulations, evidence related to a Level 1 dangerous case must be kept separately by at least three divisional officials."

He untied the ribbon, and the parchment unfolded automatically: "This is a backup document personally signed by Barty Crouch, the then Deputy Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. On page 5 is his letter of apology."

Kingsley Shackler suddenly stood up from his Auror seat: "I can testify that this backup procedure does exist. I was involved in the document escort back then."

Fudge's face turned deathly pale, his fat fingers nervously tapping the table: "This...this isn't in accordance with procedure..."

Kane's grey-blue eyes swept over those who had just refuted him.

Fingertips brushed subtly across the recording crystal on the cuff.

Those panicked expressions, trembling fingers, and evasive gazes were perfectly etched into the magical image.

These people will settle accounts with them one by one!

Mark Bans once again weighed the scales: "Now, let's vote. Those who support dropping all charges against Sirius Black and initiating reparations, raise your hands."

Mrs. Longbottom was the first to raise her hand, followed by more than half of the Wizengamo members.

Fudge frantically winked at several of his confidants, but under Dumbledore's watchful eye, even Umbridge reluctantly raised his hand in the end.

"Unanimously approved," Mark Bans announced. "Effective immediately:"

"First, restore all civil rights and family titles of Sirius Black;"

"Second, the Ministry of Magic shall pay 10,000 Galleons in compensation for emotional distress."

"Third, the Blake mansion and all seized properties are hereby released from seizure immediately;"

"Fourth, Merlin is awarded the Order of the Black King, First Class, in recognition of his contributions to the war against the Dark Lord."

The iron chain fell down with a snap.

Sirius staggered; twelve years of Dementor torment had taken a toll on his knees.

Harry rushed forward to support him, but was instead tightly embraced by Harry.

"I'm sorry..." Sirius's voice was hoarse and broken, "I should have protected you..."

Harry buried his face in the musty-smelling prison uniform.

He smelled seawater, bloodstains, and a long-lost warm scent: "You've done a great job."

On the other side, Peter was bound by magical shackles used by the Aurors.

As Kingsley Shackle pulled him through the gallery.

Umbridge suddenly raised her red handkerchief to cover her mouth and nose: "It's... nauseating."

"Regarding the specific implementation of the compensation—" Mark Bans had just begun when Fudge jumped up and interrupted him:

"The Ministry of Finance currently does not have this budget!"

Kane chuckled softly. "That's strange. Last week, the Daily Prophet said that the Ministry of Magic's treasury had a surplus of more than 500,000 Galleons."

He turned to Dumbledore. "Perhaps we need to review the financial reports of the last decade?"

Fudge's face turned deathly pale instantly.

"No need."

Dumbledore said gently, "The compensation for the Black family treasury has been transferred from Gringotts—just as the trial was concluded."

Fudge looked up abruptly, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

"This...this is embezzlement!" he shrieked, his voice like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "I need to call an emergency ministerial meeting! I need to—"

"According to Article 12 of the Ministry of Magic's Financial Management Regulations," Kane slowly flipped through a gilded booklet, "in cases of judicial indemnity, Gringotts has the right to directly allocate funds from the Treasury's reserves." He paused deliberately, "provided, of course, that Gringotts receives a formal ruling from Wizengamor... just like it did two minutes ago."

Fudge's lips trembled violently, like a goldfish out of water.

He suddenly turned to Umbridge: "Dolores! Send an urgent owl to the accounting department immediately!"

Umbridge was busy wiping her forehead with her pink cardigan.

Upon hearing this, he hurriedly pulled out a roll of pink parchment.

As a result, the tie was accidentally torn, and the papers scattered all over the floor with a "whoosh".

"Oh dear," said Dumbledore kindly, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles sparkling with delight, "it seems that some document management also needs improvement."

Fudge suddenly slumped into his chair like a deflated balloon.

Her fingers unconsciously tugged at the gold thread on her gown—the gesture was as if she were counting how many strands of hair she had lost.

"My vault..." he murmured, as if reciting a eulogy, "my meticulously planned third fountain... my gilded desk..."

"Look on the bright side, Cornelius," Dumbledore said cheerfully.