I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 321 Conspiracy, Trial, The Truth Right Under Our Nose

"It's that Mudblood!"

"Master's goal!"

"Damn it!" said the female Death Eater.

He cast a spell for ultimate defense, then dodged to the right, thus avoiding the curse.

The throbbing pain in her arm fueled her anger.

It's unforgivable that I was humiliated by a mere wizard!

Once she had steadied herself, she was about to swing her wand in retaliation. The tip of the wand shone with a blinding light, making it clear that her next spell was no ordinary one.

"Stop arguing."

Just then, her companion, who had already put away her wand, suddenly stopped her. "People from the castle are here."

Sure enough, when she looked up into the distance, Mad-Eyed Moody was charging toward them like a mad dog.

He was incredibly fast; the powerful springiness from the alchemical prosthetics on his legs made him look like he was flying when he ran.

Behind them, the Aurors from Hogsmeade Village also noticed the unusual situation ahead and were hurrying towards them on horseback.

If they don't leave now, they'll be surrounded.

"Hmph!" the woman snorted coldly.

A cold glint flashed in the eyes behind the mask.

After glaring fiercely at Hermione.

He chanted a strange incantation, and then a white light shone.

The next second, a powerful and unsettling tremor came from the ground.

"boom!"

A terrifying blast of air rushed towards us.

No one present had time to dodge; the airflow carrying snowflakes instantly buried them.

After the dust settled, as the group shook off the snowflakes from their robes, they looked around to find that the two people who had been there were long gone.

"Damn it!"

The sound was like the roar of an angry lion; it was the figure of Moody.

His eyes widened, then he turned to look at Barty Crouch. "You guys should hold on a little longer and hold them both off!"

"Damn it, these rats in the gutter are getting more and more active." He looked around uneasily at the traces left by Hermione and the two Death Eaters after their fight.

"You're the Auror!" Barty Crouch roared, today's events reminding him of Fudge.

That guy died a pathetic death in a house somewhere in Hogsmeade.

He was killed instantly by someone using a killing curse.

Just now—I don't know if it was an illusion or because I was highly focused.

He always felt that the Death Eater who cast the Killing Curse on him had caused the curse to pause for a brief moment.

He could have cast the spell much faster.

“I know, Crouch!” Moody replied. “That’s why you should have taken an Auror with you when you left the Ministry of Magic, instead of a pretty face!”

He glanced at Umbridge, who was lying in the snow, his head buried in the snow stirred up by the recent gust of wind, and said.

"Now is not the time for you to act unilaterally!"

Others may not know, but Moody knows perfectly well.

Kingsley of the Auror Office and Rufus Scrimgeour, the director, were both purged from the core of the Ministry of Magic's power structure.

As for Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the superior body of the Auror Office, she has almost been sidelined by him.

"I know what I'm doing!" Barty Crouch's face remained cold, but his rarely evasive eyes betrayed his panic at the recent attack.

At this moment, the Aurors also rushed over, led by Kingsley.

They split into two groups: one went to find the two Death Eaters, and the other escorted the minister to Hogsmeade Village.

"You didn't stop him?" Kingsley looked at Moody, his tone tinged with reproach.

"Too bad I don't have wings!!!" Moody roared.

Then, glaring angrily at Crouch as he walked away, she thought, "That guy is getting more and more stubborn."

"This will kill him sooner or later!"

Having said that, he ignored Kingsley completely.

Instead, he turned to Miss Granger and Harry, and said sternly, "Now, you two go back to the castle right now." Then, as if herding ducks, he drove them toward the castle.

In the past, he would have already gone after those two Death Eaters.

But—now, he is first and foremost a professor, and only then an Auror.

Seeing Moody's terrifyingly fiery temper, Kingsley didn't know what to say.

Crouch didn't trust him, and it wasn't far from Hogsmeade Village to Hogwarts Castle.

Who would have thought that they would be attacked in the middle of it?

"Sigh!" He sighed. Tomorrow, the Auror's day was going to be tough again.

It seems that another bloody storm is about to break out in the British magical world.

Meanwhile, Percy, standing to the side, was caught in a dilemma.

On an emotional level, he wanted to go back to the castle with Moody, since Granger had just helped him and it would be only right to go and thank him.

But the thought of the attack on the Minister of Magic just now told him that he would soon be very busy.

He sighed.

Percy and Kingsley headed straight for Hogsmeade.

Both of them tacitly ignored Umbridge, who was still lying unconscious in the snow with half his face showing.

Perhaps they were completely unaware that such a person existed.

------

the other side.

Inside Hogwarts Castle.

News of the Minister of Magic being attacked by Death Eaters spread quickly.

Dumbledore already knew about this before Harry and Hermione even arrived at the Headmaster's office.

"Stay here and don't go anywhere," Moody warned them.

He had some experience dealing with these unruly little wizards.

Basically, it's either a matter of deducting points or going to the deans of various departments. He's become quite adept at handling it.

Dumbledore shared the same opinion.

He then left the office with Moody.

Without much thought, it's obvious they went to Hogsmeade to find Barty Crouch.

After all—he was the Minister of Magic, not some nobody. Just think about it, yet another highly respected minister was murdered at Hogwarts. This is practically the biggest headline of the year.

It's enough to keep people talking for a whole year, or even longer.

Fudge's death is still being discussed today.

The fact that two Ministers of Magic died at Hogwarts in such a short period of time makes it easy for conspiracy theories to take hold, such as the ministers' deaths being orchestrated by someone behind the scenes.

Dumbledore didn't care much about his reputation. If someone threw dirty water on him, he would probably listen with amusement to see what kind of funny lies they could come up with.

But he could not tolerate anyone slandering Hogwarts.

"That was close!" Harry said quickly. Ron was also in the office at that moment, and the trio was together again.

He stepped forward and excitedly told Ron what had just happened.

"Good heavens! You've run into Death Eaters?" Ron couldn't believe it. How come there were Death Eaters around the school again?

Ugh—why use "again"?

"An attack on the Minister of Magic," Harry added.

"Percy is there too, of course."

"Percy? Is he alright?" Ron asked quickly.

"It's alright. Hermione arrived just in time."

“But—” Ron suddenly frowned. “Why would they attack Barty Crouch? I mean, since the great battle last year, the Aurors have been purging people for a whole year, even arresting his most loyal henchman, Bella. Why would they expose themselves?”

"Maybe it's for revenge?" Harry said.

"Then why now? To attack the Minister of Magic near Hogwarts?" Ron pointed to his head, the implication clear.

"I have a feeling there's some kind of conspiracy!" Harry added.

The two chatted enthusiastically, but Miss Granger's attention was focused on the alchemical artifacts on Dumbledore's table.

She didn't know the uses of these things before, but now she can somewhat appreciate their wonders and how they work.

Harry didn't bother her.

He knew Hermione had been a bit distracted lately; she needed rest, everyone knew that, but no one could dissuade her.

While Hermione was studying the alchemical artifacts, Harry began to look around.

"Hello, Fox," he said, and then greeted him.

Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, perched on a golden perch by the door; Harry actually saw it quite often.

After all, they were frequent visitors to the principal's office.

Fawkes was as big as a swan, with dazzling bright red and gold feathers. He swayed his long tail feathers and winked at Harry in a friendly manner.

Then Harry looked toward the wall behind the table, where the worn-out, patched Sorting Hat sat on a shelf.

Next to it, in a glass box, lay a gleaming silver sword with a large ruby ​​set in its hilt.

The Gryffindor Sword!

The first match was when Hermione used it against those alchemical golems.

After that, she returned the sword.

Neither Harry nor Ron understood.

Why did Hermione return the sword?

Owen is right. That sword is Godric Gryffindor's heirloom. Before he had an heir, it belonged to Hogwarts, but now that there is an heir, the sword should belong to Hermione.

Hermione could easily have taken that sword for herself.

That's what all the young Gryffindor wizards think.

Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with which sword they all want to play with.

Hmm—no!

Harry stared intently at the sword, his mind filled with fantasies of himself wielding it against a dragon.

And just as he was lost in his fantasies.

Suddenly a flash of silver light drew his attention away from the Gryffindor sword and to the rest of the cabinet.

Immediately afterwards, he noticed that the door of a black cabinet inside the wooden cabinet was not closed properly, and a bright silver light shone through it.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then walked over and opened the cabinet door. Inside was a shallow stone basin, quite large.

"What is this?" Harry murmured in confusion.

"The Pensieve," Miss Granger's voice came through the phone. "A top-tier magical alchemical artifact, given to Professor Dumbledore by Nicolas Flamel, found in *Advanced Alchemy Guide* and *Deciphering Ancient Alchemy*."

She stopped speaking.

Then he said nothing more.

"The Pensieve?" Harry sighed slightly. "Deciphering Ancient Alchemy" was Irving's work.

This clearly reminded her of him.

"What's this for?" Harry looked again at the shallow stone basin in the cabinet.

Then, as if changing the subject, he began to speak.

There are many glass bottles around the stone basin in front of me.

It contained some kind of white liquid.

The rim of the basin was decorated with strange carvings: it was covered with letters and symbols he didn't recognize, and the silver light came from the contents of the basin.

He couldn't tell whether the silvery light was from a liquid or a gas.

If I had to describe it, it's like mist, constantly flowing, like ripples on the surface of water in a gentle breeze, or like clouds drifting and gently swirling. Sometimes it transforms into liquid light, and sometimes it's like wind solidified into solid...

In short, it looks quite amazing.

Harry was completely captivated by the magical sight before him.

He suddenly had a thought: to reach out and touch the 'mist' to see what it would feel like.

However, at the very end...

He had already raised his hand.

But I still held back.

After all, he's already in fourth grade, not a first-grader anymore.

This kind of foolishly touching of unfamiliar magical items is practically tantamount to suicide.

Many magical traps have a dazzling appearance.

But once you touch it, poisoning, curses, parasites, explosions—any danger you can imagine could occur.

"You can touch it with your hands," Hermione said softly from behind him.

"The Pensieve is a precious alchemical artifact used to preserve thoughts and memories in the mind."

As she touched the Pensieve, she explained, "By placing a memory inside, you can use it to recreate that memory in a vivid way."

For wizards who know a great deal of secrets, regularly reviewing their memories helps them discover details they hadn't noticed at the time.

Hermione watched the 'mist' churning in the Pensieve.

Her brown eyes seemed to see through the magic.

Some bits and pieces of information in my head.

That is something you can see without using a Pensieve, and it will play on repeat in the days to come.

These images only bring stinging pain, sharper than any weapon in the world.

That was an invisible blade called the past.

"Cool!" Ron squeezed in too.

"With this, will I be able to relive my happy memories from the past repeatedly?"

"Ha! I'm going to win the World Cup!"

Harry stepped on Ron's foot.

The guy cried out in pain, then realized what was happening and saw Hermione's expression growing increasingly gloomy.

"I mean, this is really good stuff, isn't it?" He said somewhat awkwardly, then winked at Harry.

Potter, understanding immediately, quickly chimed in, "It's something good. Look—what's this silver thing?"

"Hermione, do you know?"

"It's a memory!" she finally said after half a minute.

Ron stirred the silvery substance with his wand, and suddenly, the contents of the Pensieve became transparent.

"Memory?" Harry looked on curiously, his head lowered, lower and lower.

He seemed to have seen something.

Some scenes, and then—"Pfft!"

The next second, his good friend Ron pushed him into the Pensieve.

"Ron!!!" Harry didn't doubt Hermione for a moment.

Because he knew that only Ron was capable of doing something like that.

Just as he was struggling, the scene before him changed rapidly, and Dumbledore's office suddenly collapsed.

Harry found that his hair didn't hit the bottom of the basin or suffocate him as he had imagined, or as he had fallen into the lake.

He seemed to have entered a strange world.

He fell into a cold, dark substance, as if being sucked into a black vortex...

Then he realized that it was a dimly lit room.

Harry thought it might be underground because there were no windows, only torches like those in Hogwarts mounted on the walls. He saw rows of wizards sitting on tiered benches around the room, and an empty chair in the center.

This chair gives off an ominous feeling because its armrests are wrapped with chains, as if they were used to bind people.

He looked up at the high stone ceiling, trying to see the water.

But all he could see were dark, solid rocks.

The surrounding scenery made Harry feel like he was in a dungeon.

The room had a bleak and eerie atmosphere. There were no pictures or decorations on the walls, only rows of long benches arranged in a tiered fashion, from which the chained chair could be clearly seen from every seat.

"Where is this place?"

Harry was puzzled, and even a little flustered.

After all, we had suddenly arrived at such a gloomy and terrifying place.

"This is the Ministry of Magic's courtroom," Ron's voice rang in his ears.

Harry turned his head and saw Ron also fall from the ceiling.

The two looked around; there were at least two hundred wizards in the room.

They all had solemn expressions and wore ancient and exquisite costumes in dark tones, giving off an invisible pressure.

"You know this too?"

“I saw George and Fred who came here before,” Ron said. “Every year, several wizards who seriously misused Muggle items or even violated the Statute of Secrets would be tried here.”

"Here? What trial?" Harry asked again.

"Should the trial be held in Azkaban?" Ron explained, "This is the Tenth Trial Chamber, the venue used by the Ministry of Magic to try the most heinous crimes. Very few of those brought here ever leave without a charge."

It would take at least three years in Azkaban.

Harry was a little shocked. They were just some Muggle items—was it really necessary?

Also, is it a crime for a wizard to use more Muggle items?

What kind of evil law is this!

You have to take a train to get to Hogwarts!

The train was invented by a Muggle, so how come the wizard who modified the train wasn't punished?

There was also a broadcast.

Printing press.

Projector.

There are so many Muggle machines in the magical world, how come they all turn a blind eye to them?

So you only care about your own comfort and don't allow others to enjoy it?

Suddenly, Harry developed a sense of aversion and resistance towards magical laws.

"Hermione will definitely repeal all these laws!" he said firmly, then turned around and saw another wizard fall from the ceiling.

It's Hermione.

"So, are we in one of Dumbledore's memories right now?" Harry looked around, his breathing suddenly becoming rapid, and he seemed very excited. This kind of sneaking around and exploring the headmaster's secrets was really exhilarating.

(End of this chapter)