ACT4CH45 - FALLOUT PART 1

From the first page of the Daily Prophet…

EMERGENCY WIZENGAMOT SESSION CALLED TO ADDRESS UNPRECEDENTED CRISES!

By: Euphemia Scrivener

LONDON, Ministry of Magic: The Wizengamot will convene for a highly anticipated emergency session today to address the ongoing turmoil gripping the magical world. With tensions running high and uncertainty looming over Azkaban and its enigmatic transformation, this session is expected to set the course for Britain’s magical future.

State of the Nation: Amelia Bones to Present Key Findings

DMLE Director and Holder of the Ministry Authority under the Bane of Discordia, Madam Amelia Bones, will open the session with a formal statement on the state of magical Britain. Her address will include an overview of the escalating unrest, both domestically and abroad, as the fallout from recent events continues to ripple across the wizarding world.

Madam Bones’s statement is also expected to touch upon the enigmatic situation at Azkaban. Shrouded by a swirling grey barrier of magical energy—widely believed to be imbued with the essence of Death—the infamous prison has undergone a dramatic and mysterious transformation. Though reports indicate that Harry Potter played a pivotal role in the events leading to this change, the island remains inaccessible. Speculation abounds as to what has become of Potter, and whether he retains control of Azkaban’s newly altered status.

Fudge, Umbridge, and Dawlish Face Trial

One of the session’s most significant developments will be the presentation of formal charges against former Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge, Dolores Umbridge, and Auror John Dawlish.

Fudge and Umbridge are accused of gross negligence and corruption, with specific focus on their mishandling of security during the recent series of magical catastrophes. Umbridge, in particular, faces severe allegations for her role in dismantling Harry Potter’s protective measures surrounding Neville Longbottom’s Obscurial transformation—a decision that led to the devastation of Diagon Alley.

Auror John Dawlish stands accused of colluding with Dolores Umbridge. His actions allegedly facilitated several breaches of security, further exacerbating the chaos.One witness described how Dawlish obstructed efforts by Harry Potter, Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, and Hit-wizard Captain Sirius Black to salvage the situation. Dawlish repeatedly belittled Harry Potter, accusing him of orchestrating the chaos despite mounting evidence to the contrary. 

"Dawlish's actions weren't just unhelpful," the Auror said. "They actively hindered attempts to contain the situation. He sowed confusion and mistrust at a time when unity was crucial."

“The magical community deserves accountability,” Madam Bones stated in a preliminary statement. “Those who have abused their power or betrayed their duty must face justice.”

Azkaban’s Fate in Question

Another key point of discussion will be the fate of Azkaban itself. The swirling grey dome encasing the island has rendered it unreachable, and the Ministry has confirmed that no communication has been established with those inside. Reports suggest that Harry Potter, whose actions are believed to have triggered the transformation, remains within the confines of the barrier.

The Wizengamot will deliberate on the implications of Azkaban’s new status and whether it remains a viable prison or has become something entirely different. However, with little information emerging from the site, any decision may be purely symbolic at this stage.

Uncertainty and High Stakes

The stakes for today’s session could not be higher. With Britain’s magical society teetering on the edge of disorder, the decisions made by the Wizengamot will shape not only the nation’s immediate future but also its standing in the wider magical world.

Will justice be served for the actions of Fudge, Umbridge, and Dawlish? What will become of Azkaban and Harry Potter’s role in its transformation? And, perhaps most pressingly, can the Ministry restore stability in a world increasingly shaped by chaos and uncertainty?

The Daily Prophet will provide live updates throughout the session. Stay tuned for the latest developments.

....

....

The grand chamber of the Wizengamot was alive with whispers as Albus Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and glanced over the assembly. The seats of the ancient circular hall were filled with witches and wizards representing the vast spectrum of magical Britain—from staunch traditionalists in their heavy robes adorned with family crests to younger, reformist voices whose attire hinted at modern sensibilities. Above it all, the enchanted ceiling mirrored a turbulent sky, storm clouds swirling as though reflecting the mood of the day.

“Chief Warlock,” intoned the scribe at the base of the dais. “Roll call is complete, and we have established a quorum. The required number of votes to open today’s emergency session has been confirmed.”

Dumbledore gave her a small nod and rose to his full height, his robes flowing with an almost ethereal grace. The murmurs in the chamber fell silent, every gaze turning toward him.

“Honored members of the Wizengamot,” he began, his voice calm yet resonant, “I hereby call this session to order. Today, we gather under circumstances both extraordinary and dire. Let us approach our deliberations with wisdom, clarity, and a shared commitment to the greater good of Wizarding Britain, and the entire magical world.”

The ceremonial gavel in his hand struck the dais with a sharp crack, and the chamber’s magical wards shimmered faintly, sealing the proceedings from outside interference.

Dumbledore scanned the entire room as he resumed his seat, feeling the tension surging all around. Fear, anger, uncertainty — these troubled times were always easy to dissolve into anarchy. Every word spoken here today would carry consequences far beyond the walls of the chamber.

“Director Bones,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence, “you may present your statement.”

Amelia Bones, formidable and composed in her deep red robes, rose from her seat. She adjusted her monocle, her stern gaze sweeping across the room as she began.

“Chief Warlock, esteemed members of the Wizengamot,” she said, her tone measured yet firm. “I stand before you today to provide an account of the current state of magical Britain and the broader implications for our world. As you are all aware, we are facing an unprecedented convergence of crises that demand our immediate attention.”

Dumbledore leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled as he listened. 

“First,” Amelia continued, “we already have the media buzzing with theories about what transpired at Azkaban. The truth is, the island is surrounded by a colorless, dimming barrier — a Monochrome, as the Unspeakables have termed it. It is formed of Death energy, and is dissolving any attempt at breaching it.”

“Clearly Potter is in there,” suggested Nott. 

The chamber stirred at the mention of Potter’s name, whispers rippling through the assembly. 

“Yes, clearly,” said Amelia, giving Nott the sort of look that promised death by a thousand cuts if he attempted another interruption. “Let me assure you. The Ministry is committed to understanding and addressing this matter. For now, our focus must remain on the challenges we can confront directly.”

Privately, Albus admired the woman’s resolve. It was no secret that she had been dating Black, and that there were wedding bells on the horizon. Within a very short span of time, she had lost him, and with a second chance at family life. And if that hadn’t been enough, she had to face Voldemort in a reckless battle where she, and a major chunk of her force, paid dearly with their lives.

And yet, here she was, dealing with the aftermath with an iron resolve.

It was something to be admired, though he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at how much the world had demanded of her.

Amelia cleared her throat. “With that taken care of, I will be delivering a concise report on everything that has recently transpired. I shall be taking no questions until I am done, and any interruptions during my report will be penalized.”

Dumbledore banged his gavel in acknowledgement.

“Five days ago, a ritual circle was set up atop St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies, executed by an as-yet-unidentified Death Eater. This act of dark magic coincided with a tragic and catastrophic event—the transformation of Neville Longbottom, heir of House Longbottom — into an obscurial.”

Dumbledore’s chest tightened at the memory. He had seen the aftermath of the obscurial’s rampage, the devastation it had wrought. And yet, it was not the destruction that haunted him most—it was the knowledge of how preventable it had been.

“Witnesses claim that Longbottom, still half-transformed, had attacked the Death Eater. This clash occurred atop a building where Harry Potter was present, who then interfered in the fight, defeated the Death Eater, and cast defensive enchantments around Mr. Longbottom, designed to contain the obscurial and prevent further harm. Dolores Umbridge chose to dismantle these protections, disregarded the advice of Professor Newton Scamander—an ICW-certified expert on magical creatures—and ignored the clear danger posed by the situation.”

“The result of her actions,” Amelia continued, her voice cutting through the noise, “was the release of the obscurial. It devastated Diagon Alley, killing dozens and injuring countless more. Entire sections of our beloved magical district lie in ruins.”

Dumbledore watched as the weight of Amelia’s words settled over the assembly. Some nodded in agreement, while others shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The guilt and anger in the room were palpable.

“And that ends the report,” said Amelia, exhaling. “Any questions?”

"What became of the beast?" demanded Lady Arabella Brown.

Dumbledore frowned. Of all the things to consider, the first thing that they decided to focus on was fondling their own bigotry. The House of Brown was a staunch traditionalist, with extremely bigoted views about magical beasts, and Arabella practically spearheaded that approach. That the obscurial was Neville Longbottom, scion and heir of the illustrious Longbottom name didn't even matter to her.

Or perhaps, said the more cynical part of him — this was an attempt by House Brown to steal the footing away from House Longbottom to establish itself as a major player in the traditional segment.

Really, it was moments like these that he considered giving up his seat as Chief Warlock, and instead taking up the seat he was offered as an Order Of Merlin recipient. By linking himself to young Harry’s faction, Albus would definitely make waves after decades of being in active politics. 

If only he could bring himself to pursue influence in that way!

“Newt Scamander and Chief Warlock Dumbledore,” Amelia continued, “with the assistance of skilled hit-wizards, managed to restrain the obscurial. Mr. Scamander, drawing upon his unparalleled expertise, transported it out of Britain to a secure location.”

“Why?” demanded Archibald Smith. “It needs to be persecuted for the destruction it has wrought. Under Section 49A of the Magical Beasts Act, it is imperative —”

“I well know what the Act states, Lord Smith,” said Amelia coldly. “However, Professor Scamander took him away during the period when Wizarding Britain was under the Bane of Discordia, during which, I’m certain you know, all conventional Acts can be ignored in the light of facing a more immediate crisis. The obscurial was contained, and safely transported out by Professor Scamander out of Britain, and I am not privy to his current situation. Already Britain is in dire straits and in an impossible situation with the rest of the wizarding world. Are you certain you want to push forward another… diplomatic nonsense, just to assuage your concerns?”

“Diplomatic or otherwise,” said Benjamin Nott. “If it is responsible for it, it has to pay the price for its actions.”

With Lucius dead and gone, Nott would likely take charge. Maybe he even had.

“It’s a creature of destruction,” said Nott. “It has no place in our world.”

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed, but he allowed Amelia to respond.

“An admirable sentiment,” drawled Amelia. “Perhaps we should hold that thought while we judge the actual criminals that caused this entire disaster in the first place? We can start by eliminating Dolores Umbridge, whose reckless actions unleashed it. Same goes for the former Minister Fudge and his supporters that allowed her to act without any restraints. Or if we are to look at the root cause… then every single member of this august body that attempted to make it look like the Dark Lord Tom Riddle hadn’t returned be interrogated under Veritaserum? Who knows how deep this infestation goes?”

Nott glared but said nothing.

The chamber fell silent, and Dumbledore allowed himself a small nod of approval. Amelia’s argument was unassailable, her logic cutting through the hysteria with precision.

Still, as he observed the assembly, he couldn’t ignore the undercurrents of fear and mistrust. The world was changing, and not all would adapt willingly. For every voice of reason like Amelia’s, there were others who clung to outdated beliefs, who sought simple answers to complex problems.

Amelia held her wand out and performed a curious movement. Instantly, there was a wad of documents neatly wrapped inside a folder before each and every member of the Wizengamot.

“The files present a detailed account of everything that happened in the multiple crises. To save time, I shall provide a concise account for this assembly and the press alike. Sirius Black and his squad were dispatched to investigate and neutralize the ritual circle atop the hospital. During this time, however, an even graver crisis unfolded at Azkaban.”

She paused, allowing the weight of her words to settle over the chamber before continuing. “The dementors overthrew the existing Auror squad stationed at the prison. They rebelled, aligning themselves with the Death Eaters. Simultaneously, Minister Fudge—in an act of desperation and paranoia—accused Chief Warlock Dumbledore and Harry Potter of orchestrating these events to overthrow his Ministry and attempted to have them arrested over imaginary cases of sedition.”

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the assembly. Dumbledore remained impassive, his hands folded as he watched Amelia navigate the treacherous waters of public sentiment.

“Minister Fudge and Dolores Umbridge,” Amelia pressed on, her voice sharp, “ordered Auror John Dawlish And the now Lt. Auror Proudfoot to arrest both Dumbledore and Potter. This decision fractured our response at a critical moment. While the Ministry’s leadership was in disarray, Rufus Scrimgeour and I led available Auror and hit-wizard squads to Azkaban. We were ambushed en route.”

Amelia’s jaw tightened, the only visible sign of the toll the memory took on her. “Majority of the squads were captured by Death Eaters and dementors. Only a handful of us, including Chief Auror Rufus Scrimgeour and myself, managed to escape.”

The Chamber stayed silent.

“Meanwhile,” Amelia continued, “Harry Potter successfully dismantled the ritual circle atop St. Mungo’s. He faced resistance from Auror Dawlish, and acted in self-defense, injuring John Dawlish.”

“He attacked an Auror on duty?” asked someone.

“That Auror actively obstructed Potter’s and the Chief Warlock’s efforts to dismantle the Circle.”

“He was simply following orders,” said Lord Rowle. “I’m certain he regrets his actions.”

“Yes, and I’m certain the people that perished inside St. Mungo’s for his obstruction are grateful for his regret.”

Dumbledore winced. Amelia was being blunt to the point of hammering down abuse on anyone that attempted a strike at her. And by the silence that followed, the impact was just as deafening.

“Recognizing the severity of the crises,” said Amelia. “I filed an emergency authorization, appointing Mr. Potter as a hit-wizard for the duration of martial law.”

Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed with a flicker of pride. Harry’s actions, though unconventional, had been nothing short of heroic. The boy—no, the young man—had stepped into a role few could manage, let alone thrive in.

“Together,” Amelia said, her voice steady, “we embarked on a mission to Azkaban. Harry Potter’s skill and determination were instrumental in fighting both dementors and Death Eaters. He enabled our squad to infiltrate the heart of the prison, neutralizing threats that would have otherwise overwhelmed us.”

She paused, her gaze sweeping across the assembly. “Harry Potter’s contributions during this crisis cannot be overstated. Without his efforts, our mission to Azkaban would have ended in complete failure.  During the battle in the Azkaban courtyard, we encountered the Dark Lord himself. Just to make an example of what happened to those that crossed him, he killed Auror Proudfoot.”

Amelia’s voice faltered slightly as the memory washed over her. “His magic was unlike anything I, or my team have ever faced. Even with our combined might, we were barely able to keep ourselves from dying. The only reason I am here today, with whatever remains of my squads, is thanks to Harry Potter, who lent the blade of Godric Gryffindor, as well as his unique brand of Death thaumaturgy.”

The chamber’s silence deepened as Amelia’s words sank in.

“Even with the sword,” she continued, “I was only able to wound the Dark Lord. His body was, of course, destroyed, but he escaped as a wraith, as he likely did back in 1981.”

“Is that an admission for the DMLE’s weakness, Madam Bones?” asked Mulciber slyly. “Your words do not garner faith, especially with the current situation.”

“It is,” said Amelia, matching him with a look that could have melted steel. “We were woefully unprepared for the situation. If not for Potter’s aid, every single one of us would have died. Perhaps if the DMLE had not been crippled over the past years, and the Wizengamot would have actually funded the Department to hire more skilled wands, or funded the Department of Mysteries to further research into protective enchantments for us, then perhaps we would have fared better. But here we are.”

She straightened her shoulders, her gaze piercing as she looked across the room. “The truth is, this body allowed Lord Voldemort the chance to pull off what he did. Minister Fudge dismissed the warnings, belittled Potter and Dumbledore, and chose to publicly condemn them, and this body let them, merely because the truth was inconvenient.”

A wave of murmurs spread through the chamber, tinged with outrage and unease.

“I have to ask, Madam Bones,” said Lord Mulciber. “You keep mentioning Potter’s power aiding you. Where was Harry Potter during this battle?”

“He was taking care of a threat far graver at that time. A threat that nearly caused a worldwide magical apocalypse and would have eventually destroyed humanity as a whole if not for Potter’s efforts.”

“And what is that threat?”

“Classified,” said Amelia coldly. 

“I’m certain that the Wizengamot needs a complete account of things before we can come to a decision,” said Mulciber disarmingly.

“Once we get to a complete understanding of things, I’m certain we will,” said Amelia in her strict no-nonsense way. “However, the Azkaban event isn’t localised to British territory. It has had severe outreaching effects on the greater world. As such, it has been decided that we will cooperate with the ICW, to analyze this matter intellectually and magically, before we can make any direct statements before our own people. Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore, myself, Newton Scamander and Saul Croaker, the Voice of the Unspeakables shall be present in the meeting.”

“And who made this decision?” asked Lady Brown.

“I did.”

“Without consulting with the Wizengamot? Already you have usurped authority from the Executive under the Bane of Discordia, and now, you ignore this body’s powers to discuss and vote on such crucial matters? Perhaps you seek to replace Minister Fudge’s incompetency with dictatorship, Madam Bones?”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Brown,” said Amelia, her voice drolly unapologetic. “When it comes to ignoring crucial matters and hiding one’s head in the sand, all the while sitting in righteous, arrogant judgement over blatant lies and honest truths, the British Wizengamot has no equal.”

The woman’s head rocked back as if slapped.

“Apart from being the DMLE Director and current holder of Ministry authority, I have been present in four out of six of the events that have conspired recently, including the interaction between Harry Potter and the apocalyptic threat residing within Azkaban. A threat that the British Ministry has, in its own way, helped fester over the centuries. Albus Dumbledore, apart from being the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, was involved in the other two events. Professor Scamander was instrumental in restraining the obscurial, and being its current custodian as well as an ICW-member, his placement in this meeting is well-justified. And finally, Unspeakable Croaker, will be present, simply because the magics involved in this situation, fall under his department’s management. We shall also attempt to communicate with Harry Potter and request his presence at this meeting.”

“Request?” asked Nott. “Harry Potter is a student at Hogwarts, and a hit-wizard in service to the Ministry. He has to agree to the Ministry’s policy.”

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. Trust Nott to use something like that against Harry the first chance he got.

“That would be true,” said Amelia, smiling. “But I had worded his contract with the Ministry to be upheld until such a time as the Wizengamot votes to undo the Bane of Discordia, which is, I believe, happening right now. Unless of course, this august body is comfortable in continuing Martial Law until the next seating?”

Nott grumbled.

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through the low hum of whispers.

“Thank you, Madam Bones. Your account highlights not only the challenges we face but also the courage and resourcefulness demonstrated by those who have risen to meet them. Let us now deliberate on the implications of these events and the path forward.”

“I agree,” said Amelia. “But sometimes, one needs to fully understand the rot prevailing in the system before administering a cure for the future. And for that, I would like to present our esteemed convicts for the Wizengamot to judge.”

She raised her wand.

“Bring the convicts!”

Whispers skyrocketed in the Wizengamot as Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge were led into the center of the circular hall. Bound by enchanted restraints that shimmered faintly, the disgraced former Minister of Magic and his one-time Senior Undersecretary wore expressions that could not have been more different. Fudge looked pale and haunted, his eyes darting nervously across the room as though searching for an escape. Umbridge, on the other hand, had a mask of smug defiance, though her trembling hands betrayed the cracks in her façade.

Albus Dumbledore’s sharp blue gaze followed their every movement as they were escorted to the central dais. He struck the ceremonial gavel against the podium, and the murmurs in the chamber ceased immediately.

“Cornelius Oswald Fudge and Dolores Jane Umbridge,” Dumbledore began, his voice resonating with the weight of authority, “you stand before this Wizengamot to answer for your actions during one of the most catastrophic periods in magical Britain’s history. The charges against you are numerous and severe. Your testimonies today will determine not only your fates but the direction of justice in our community.”

Amelia Bones, seated near Dumbledore, adjusted her monocle and nodded toward the Aurors stationed by the accused. “Administer the Veritaserum,” she instructed. Her tone was devoid of emotion, but the steel in her voice left no room for argument.

One of the Aurors stepped forward, carefully uncorking a small vial of the transparent, shimmering potion. Fudge recoiled slightly but didn’t resist as three drops were administered to his tongue. Umbridge hesitated, her defiance faltering for a brief moment, before the potion was forced upon her as well. The room watched in silence as the serum took effect, their eyes riveted on the proceedings.

“We shall begin with you, Minister Fudge,” Amelia said, emphasizing the title with a touch of irony. “Did you knowingly dismiss credible warnings about the resurgence of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters?”

Fudge’s eyes glazed over briefly, the Veritaserum taking hold. His response came slowly, but with unnerving clarity. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice devoid of its usual bluster. “I didn’t want to believe it. If I admitted it was true, I would lose my seat.”

A ripple of anger and disbelief coursed through the chamber. Amelia held up a hand to silence the murmurs.

“And yet,” she continued, “you not only dismissed these warnings, but you also actively discredited those who brought them to your attention, including the Chief Warlock and Harry Potter. Why?”

Fudge’s face twisted in anguish. “Potter was too much. Every time his name came up, it was another scandal, another threat to stability. By silencing him and controlling the narrative, I could maintain order. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, his voice cracking.

“You didn’t realize?” Amelia interjected, her voice cutting through the chamber like a knife. “Or you didn’t care?”

“I… didn’t care.”

She shifted to Umbridge. “And you, Madam Umbridge. Did you, in your role as Senior Undersecretary, deliberately undermine protections set in place by Harry Potter and other capable individuals to mitigate the crises?”

Umbridge’s lips moved as if to deny the accusation, but the serum forced the truth from her. “Yes,” she admitted, though her tone was petulant. “Potter is dangerous. A boy with that much power, that much influence needed to be controlled. He was a problem for the Minister.”

Amelia’s monocle flashed as her eyes narrowed. “You tore down protections that were safeguarding Neville Longbottom. Protections that could have prevented the obscurial from wreaking havoc. Do you deny this?”

Umbridge’s face flushed an ugly shade of red, but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “All lies! Potter was lying to protect himself from the law! He’s to be blamed! His arrogance needed to be checked, and Scamander was just an old beast-loving fool.”

Amelia turned to face the Wizengamot. “I have had multiple independent mind-healers assess the convict’s mind during the interrogation. They revealed that she suffers from a rather extreme case of… self-delusion, and is quite apt at crafting arm-chair conspiracies to support her bias.”

She turned back to Fudge again. 

“And what of your accusations against Potter and Albus Dumbledore? Why did you seek to have them arrested?”

Fudge’s gaze flickered with fear, but he could not resist the serum’s effects. “I was told they were plotting against me.”

“By whom?”

“Dolores.”

Amelia let the Wizengamot digest that for a moment, before asking him to continue.

“Dolores told me Potter was working on something secret aimed to destroy my Ministry. I met him at the Rosier-Santos wedding event and he quite publicly stated he wishes to become the Minister of Magic. Lucius hinted that he had a plan to take Potter down for good. Project Prometheus.”

“And what was this plan?”

“I cannot say.”

Amelia turned to Umbridge. “Same question.”

“A project that would reshape the world to our liking. A world without Albus Dumbledore and Potter and filthy half-breeds!”

That her bigotry was showing despite the emotional dampeners that came with veritaserum spoke volumes about the woman’s psyche.

“And so, you sought to eliminate Harry Potter and myself?” asked Dumbledore, unable to help himself.

“You were both too powerful,” Fudge said, his voice trembling. “I thought if I stopped you, I could protect my job.”

“You acted on lies and paranoia,” Amelia said coldly. “And in doing so, you endangered countless lives and caused the deaths of hundreds. Now, tell us about your role in this Project Prometheus.”

Umbridge’s defiance wavered, but the serum compelled her. “I used the Imperius Curse on Hermione Granger. She was close to Potter, always around him, always protecting his secrets. I needed to know what he was planning. I forced her to reveal his activities, to share what she knew… and then I obliviated her. Repeatedly. I tortured her with blood quills to make her compliant.”

The chamber gasped in horror, the murmurs growing louder and angrier.

“You enslaved a student?” Dumbledore’s voice was colder than ice.

Umbridge’s words spilled out in a rush. “When I learned about Project Prometheus and the Order of the Phoenix, I knew I needed to take Potter out for good, and the best way to do that was to defame him. I forced Granger to collect Potter’s hair for polyjuice potion. But then there was the accident.”

Amelia’s gaze was like steel. “What accident?”

“Granger was injured on the seventh floor of Hogwarts,” Umbridge admitted. “I heard she was sent to St. Mungo’s. I believed Potter and Dumbledore were behind it, trying to cover their tracks. I ordered a Death Eater to pose as Potter and kidnap her before she could reveal anything and ruin my plans.”

The room erupted into chaos, the shouts of outrage echoing off the chamber walls. Dumbledore struck the gavel repeatedly, his expression thunderous as he silenced the assembly.

“Your crimes,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, “go beyond negligence. They are acts of cruelty and treachery that have endangered not only lives but the very fabric of trust within our society. The Wizengamot will deliberate on the full extent of your punishment. There will be no leniency.”

The murmurs resumed, quieter now, but filled with fury and disgust. Dumbledore turned his gaze skyward for a moment, the weight of the revelations heavy on his shoulders. With a deep breath, he struck the gavel one last time, signaling the end of the interrogation.

“The confessions we have heard today,” he said, his voice heavy with finality, “are more than enough to convict. Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge have shown themselves to be not only incompetent but actively harmful to the safety and integrity of our society. Their actions have endangered countless lives and destabilized the very foundation of our world.”

“Chief Warlock, I would request the DMLE be given a period of three days for a detailed confession from both convicts before they are punished. It would be instrumental in finding Miss Granger, and locating other insurgents that were part of this madness.”

Dumbledore banged the gavel. “Noted.” He stood, his presence filling the chamber. “The Wizengamot shall now deliberate on the appropriate sentences. Let us not forget the weight of what we have heard today, nor the responsibility we bear to ensure such failures are never repeated.”

As the murmurs began anew, Dumbledore turned his gaze to the enchanted ceiling, his thoughts briefly lingering on Harry. The boy—no, the young man—had carried more than his fair share of burdens. And yet, it seemed those burdens were only beginning. With a weary sigh, Dumbledore struck the gavel once more, signaling the assembly to proceed.