Hogwarts: Voldemort, don't stop me from studying

Chapter 971 Big News 7
Amidst the flying spells, shoving, and shouting chaos, Rita's voice rose again, shrilly screaming:

"Look! Look at these photos! Look at this horrific video!"

The image in the flow mirror was instantly divided into several pieces of different sizes, some showing bloody photos of experimental subjects, and others showing bloody experiments that are unimaginable to most people.

Even though the video is silent, everyone can fully imagine the pain and fear that the test subjects experienced.

Moreover, in order to ensure complete experimental documentation, the video even includes the sounds of flesh and bone being cut open, as well as the researchers' cold and ruthless discussions.

"Merlin! This can't be real... this can't be real..."

Among the guests, some covered their mouths and couldn't help but shed tears; some cast angry glances at the instigator; and some were almost scared to death by the scene.

The clamor abruptly subsided, the battle incantations ceased involuntarily, and the vivid images stirred fear and anger in people more powerfully than any words.

Those who had previously shouted and echoed the call seemed to have their voices stuck in their throats.

The speculator looked around in terror, quietly withdrew his wand, and unconsciously backed away.

Even among the most steadfast supporters, subtle wavering emerged; some had shifty eyes, while others broke out in a sweat.

Abandoning the sunken ship was their instinct. With Lyra on the verge of death, no one was willing to pay the price of drowning themselves to protect her.

Uncertainty, like a silent plague, spread among the people.

Amidst the sporadic sounds of battle, only Rita Skeeter's voice stood out clearly:

"Do you remember the 'Silent Island Incident' not long ago? That poor girl, Mabel, who was devoured by dark forces!"

"The reason she became an Obscurial is because they conducted this terrible experiment on her, which is why she became an Obscurial!"

"Why did poor Mabel fall into the hands of Muggles? It's all because of our respected Headmaster Ilfamoni, Gilbert Fontana—"

In the holographic mirror, Rita Skeeter, seemingly to echo his words, pointed her finger like a wielded sword!
Inside the courtyard, many people were chilled to the bone by this statement. Following Skeeter's movements, they unconsciously looked towards Fontana with their eyes.

Fontana, still bound by ropes, was struggling, but the curse, from who knows where, prevented him from breaking free for a short time, and he was even unable to make a sound.

He could only watch helplessly as the woman in the mirror shed tears of uncontrollable emotion, accusing him in a shrill voice:
"Because your headmaster doesn't allow Muggle-born wizards to enter the schools under his jurisdiction! He believes that half-blood wizards and Muggle-born wizards are dangerous sources, so he wants to cut off their chance to enter the wizarding world at the root!"

Fontana's face was ashen. He stopped his ugly struggle, closed his eyes, unwilling to face the gazes of the crowd, but showed no remorse.

Some of the pure-blood wizards present couldn't help but show expressions of approval.

However, the vast majority of people were horrified, and some even had a burning sense of disgust and hatred in their eyes.

In the close-up shot, Rita Skeeter is trembling all over, and large tears are streaming down her face.

She let out a hoarse sob, each word seeming to be filled with blood and tears seeping from the depths of her heart:
"Why... Principal Fontana!"

"If... if you, if this 'great' system you belong to truly cannot accept those children who have Muggle blood flowing through their veins but also harbor magical dreams... if your castle truly cannot tolerate their existence..."

"Why can't we give them a way out?! Why not recommend those hopeful children to other schools?!"

Her speech quickened, her questions came like a machine gun, her voice trembling with sobs yet each word clear and distinct, striking the deathly silence:

"Hogwarts is right there! Headmaster Dumbledore has never rejected a child with magical abilities!"

"Beauxbatons, Vagado, Castrobushers... so many magic schools in the world! We all open our doors! We are all willing to welcome souls who yearn to learn and yearn to belong! We can also understand your resistance and doubt about another world!"

"Even if it's just a little bit of hypocritical pity, Headmaster? Why can't you give those children a way to live?"

"Just because the blood flowing in their veins isn't the pure blood you acknowledge, does that mean they're no longer human?! Can't their suffering touch your noble heart that claims to 'defend the magical world'?!"

"The moment you decided to throw them into the fire, the moment you betrayed the children's names and addresses... Headmaster Fontana, the price you so painstakingly upheld for the purity of the magical world... was the complete abandonment of the most basic compassion as 'human beings'?!"

Each tearful question lashed out like a whip across Fontana's face.

In private, he naturally had many compelling reasons, and many words about "the big picture," "risks," and "necessary sacrifices" to convince himself and those who believed in him.

But now, facing the judgment of countless eyes, he suddenly realized that all those reasons seemed so pale and hypocritical.

at this time--

Bang! Boom—!
A deafening explosion erupted without warning, causing the crystal chandelier overhead to rattle and clang, sending dust swirling down and creating a hazy mist.

Many people let out short screams, and instinctively bent over to avoid the deathly silence of the trial.

Fontana, who was lying at the bottom of the steps, also moved her eyes and looked in the direction from which the sound came.

One of his students quietly waved his wand, trying to untie Fontana, but the spell had no effect. He looked helplessly at the others, only to find that no one seemed to notice Fontana's predicament.

After the initial shock and confusion subsided, everyone turned around and saw Lyra Picqueli, whose face was as cold as ice.

The magnificent podium that symbolized the chairman's authority in front of her had mostly disappeared, leaving only the charred base and a few wisps of embers swirling around her feet, her whole being radiating a terrifying rage.

"enough!"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it seemed more authoritative than Hawthorne's before, causing those closest to her to instinctively take a half-step back.

Leila's gaze slowly swept across the room, and she said decisively, "I can no longer remain silent!"

She took a step forward, the sound of her boot heels striking the ground unusually clear in the silence.

Lyra didn't look at the telescope, nor did she pay attention to the sounds coming from it.

She only looked at the crowd in the room, especially the wizards who had been crowding around Fontana not long ago, their faces showing deep heartache, heavy disappointment, and a kind of determination to fight back when forced into a corner.

What we are witnessing—

She raised her hand, pointing at the mirror, her arm as steady as a rock.

"This is not an exposure, not justice. It is a meticulously planned, extremely malicious frenzy of slander and framing!"

She quickly waved her arm: "The enemy—those who lurk in the true shadows, fearing our unity, dreading our regaining of strength and dignity—they have gone mad! They will stop at nothing to undermine us from within, to see the Magic Congress once again fall into division and paralysis!"

"They can attack me, slander me, pin the crimes of Hawthorne, the death of Salina, and even the goblin infestation ten years ago on me, but I am not afraid!"

"Since I'm standing here, I'm prepared to withstand the enemy's most despicable and fierce attacks!"

She looked intently at the crowd, even staring directly at Salina's brother, Samuel, and shouted:
"But they shouldn't have resorted to such methods—they shouldn't have forged documents, fabricated illusions, and spread rumors to attack a highly respected headmaster with such shameful lies! They shouldn't have attacked our shared belief in protecting the magical world!"

"The woman on the screen is just a British journalist who's good at fabricating scandals in third-rate tabloids, the most notorious liar! She deceived you with tears and misled you with fabricated evidence!"

"But you—"

She suddenly opened her arms, and everyone felt as if she were speaking to herself:

"Among all the American wizards present, who didn't graduate from Evamony? Who didn't receive patronage from Principal Fontana? Don't we know what kind of person he is?"

Unable to speak, Fontana wept uncontrollably, as if his innocence had finally been proven.

For regular students, Fontana was always a tolerant, gentle, and kind teacher and elder. Everyone seemed to be able to tell two or three heartwarming stories about themselves and the principal, sometimes a word of encouragement, sometimes a secret donation.

Recalling these events, many people looked ashamed, blushing with shame at the fact that they had actually been deceived by the performance in the video. Some even went to try to untie Fontana.

Of course, they did not succeed.

With mixed feelings, Fontana suddenly realized that something was very wrong... something was amiss...

He strained to look up, wanting to convey his discovery to Lyra.

But on stage, Lyra's gaze swept over every face that was filled with surprise, doubt, wavering, or renewed anger, and she didn't bother to look at her own feet.

Her voice reached a crescendo, filled with immense grief and indignation as she spoke:

"Here, I want to tell those rats hiding in the gutter: you've chosen the wrong target! You've underestimated the resilience of the Magical Congress of the United States, and even more so, you've underestimated our iron will to protect the future of the wizarding world!"

"It's time for this despicable farce to end! Now, I urge everyone—open your eyes and stand firm! Don't be led by the nose! Let's use facts, actions, and a faster, more resolute investigation and counterattack to answer all these slanders!"

"Director Sloan Paul!"

Her gaze fell on a man in the crowd—the newly appointed director of the Auror office whom she had swiftly promoted.

“Here!” Paul roused himself and answered loudly.

Leila said, "You immediately lead your elite squad to trace the source of this illegal broadcast and arrest all the planners and participants!"

"This is not a debate; this is the most outrageous provocation against the International Secrecy Act and against our entire Magic Congress! It is an act of war! We will not tolerate it!"

Director Auror shouted, "Yes!"

He had thought his group was doomed, but Leila's unexpected comeback made him extremely excited, and his response was particularly loud.

The powerful voice seemed to possess an aura of justice, determination, and conviction.

Director Auror quickly left, and then Lyra walked straight to the front of the camera, raised her head, and faced the reporter on the screen who was accusing "Lyra Picqueli and her cronies," as if she were looking directly at her opponent in the shadows through the lens.

Her voice lowered, and she said with anger:
“Let me see, you cowards hiding in the gutter… What decent tricks do you have left besides these fabricated fragments and inflammatory lies?”

The light from the flowing mirror illuminated her straight back and the diverse faces below the stage.

Leila's unashamed, indignant, and self-righteous demeanor, her absolute confidence and unwavering stance, all possessed an extremely powerful allure.

Many people are naturally prone to being swayed by emotions rather than following reason, especially since their idol, Fontana, is clearly on Leila's side.

So the panic and suspicion in their eyes were replaced by indignation, and the scales in their hearts subconsciously tipped in favor of Layla. The thought that the contents of the Mirror might have spread throughout the country and the world, and that this was an unprecedented conspiracy, sent chills down their spines.

But some people maintain a cold, clear-headed look in their eyes.

They were not persuaded by the impassioned speeches of both sides, but it was clear that Rita Skeeter had indeed presented detailed evidence.

Even now, as Skeeter begins to recount more facts, a portion of the screen still displays scrolling, switching evidence, some of which appear to be fragments of experimental logs, with notes of varying shades and ink smudges that are all incredibly clear.

If it's fake... who could fake it to this extent?
As for Lyra… while what she said might be true, it was essentially just evasive talk. She had slogans and anger, but nothing concrete.

Leila did temporarily regain some of the power of discourse, but she couldn't completely eliminate the doubts that had already reached people's eyes and deep into their hearts.

Power has not yet fallen, but the threads that suspend it are already stretched to their limit, emitting a faint, sharp wail as it is about to snap.

"Boom!!!"

The heavy oak doors of the courtyard were suddenly pushed open, slamming against the walls on either side with a loud thud.

All eyes turned to that direction.

As light streamed into the doorway, a thin, haggard, and weak figure stood there.

Her hair was as white as snow, and her face showed signs of fatigue from a long illness. Her eyes, which were very similar to Leila's, were like cold stars, as if flames were quietly burning within them.

As Leila stared at the suddenly appearing figure, her pupils contracted slightly, and her fingers twitched involuntarily.

Serafina Piquéri.

The president of the Magical Congress decades ago, who led the Magical Congress of the United States through its most difficult period, is also... reportedly a "serious patient" under close surveillance at a magical hospital and unable to see visitors.

Her very presence here seems to be an answer.

Stella supported her frail aunt, but everyone ignored the girl, and no one noticed that there was an ordinary-looking young man standing behind them.

Vader raised his eyes and first saw the stunned Leila, then the trapped Fontana, and finally his gaze met that of one of the guests.

The man's eyes crinkled into a wide smile, revealing a look of extreme satisfaction.

(End of this chapter)