Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 324 Trial
Hogwarts, Gryffindor common room.

Harry sat silently at the round table by the window, his hands clasped together and his head resting on his arms. Behind him was a group of diligent students, who, having undergone special instruction, were highly enthusiastic about the Patronus Charm.

They chanted incantations repeatedly and waved their wands incessantly, hoping to summon a majestic guardian spirit.

However, the room was shrouded in silver mist, and the outlines in the floating orbs of light were indistinct. The silver glow was sprinkled on the floor, and candlelight and firelight mingled together, adding a unique touch to the lounge.

The photo on the Daily Prophet's pages flickered, Sirius Black only occupying half the page. He was no longer the unshaven, unkempt figure from the summer wanted poster, but a newly taken photo in the waiting room. His iron-grey eyes had a brighter light, and there was a faint smile in them, a smile of anticipation and expectation for the future.

But the other half of the page ruined this beauty; Peter Pettigrew's chubby face was swollen and pale, and his mouse-like eyes were squinted, giving off a very uncomfortable feeling.

Who's the Spy: Black and Peter Face Their Real Trial

At this moment, the court hearing has begun.

Harry knew the exact time of the trial, which happened to be on the weekend. He had asked Dumbledore if he could attend the hearing, but the headmaster relayed Sirius's opinion and declined the weekend activity.

Unwilling to give up, he wrote to the Ministry of Magic on Hermione's advice, applying to attend the trial as a godson, but the Department of Execution rejected the application on the grounds that he was not an immediate family member.

Until today's official court hearing, Harry realized that he was indeed unable to be present to help Sirius.

Hundreds of miles away in the lower levels of the Ministry of Magic in London, Sirius Black was locked in his seat for trial, where he could only sit alone and quietly await the outcome.

“Harry… when casting spells, is it more important to cherish happy memories or to uphold one’s beliefs?” Someone came up behind him at that moment.

This is a classic problem in the practice of the Guardian Deity Spell: if you hesitate while casting the spell, the silvery radiance of the Guardian Deity will become discontinuous and easily dissipate.

“Both are important. Just follow your heart and firmly choose one,” Harry replied succinctly, suppressing his anxiety.

He turned his head and glanced at Seamus and Dean, who had come to ask him for advice. The two had eager smiles on their faces, their star-like eyes full of excitement, and a few drops of potion residue on the corners of their mouths and lips, probably the euphoric potions sold by George and Fred.

The twins no longer lack research funding; reselling drugs is purely a personal hobby. As for what's mixed in, only they themselves probably know.

"You can choose anything?"

Simo and Dean were surprised by the answer. They exchanged a glance, both dissatisfied: "It's all your fault. You insisted on emphasizing happy emotions, which made me overthink and unable to concentrate."

"You're still emphasizing upholding your beliefs! If I had given you a little more euphoria, you might have succeeded by now."

"It's all your fault!"

"it was all your fault!"

The once joyful banter had become jarring, even irritating, and Harry felt out of place among them.

Hermione walked over from the escalator and took out her notebook from her handbag: "Instead of arguing here, you should hurry back and practice. If you keep arguing, the effects of the euphoric potion will wear off!"

Harry was touched by the handwriting she had left behind when she attended tutoring classes. She had written it down after class while recalling and researching. He knew that she had lent him her notes in order to persuade the two of them to leave.

Ron joined in at some point and handed over a box of chocolate frogs: "Hopefully, this sweet treat will make you feel better."

He has not yet successfully summoned the physical guardian deity. According to his own description, he is only a little bit away from successfully summoning it. He needs to wait until Peter Pettigrew's trial is over, hear his well-deserved punishment, and then, in the midst of the joy that arises from his heart, summon the lion-like guardian deity.

“Don’t worry, Harry. Dumbledore is the First Wizard of Wizengamor, and his opinion has a great influence on the jury. There’s also Professor Levent, who is very prestigious in the wizarding world,” Hermione comforted softly.

“And my dad! He works at the Ministry of Magic too!” Ron puffed out his chest.

"Hermione, Ron, thank you..." Harry couldn't help but smile, thinking that Mr. Weasley shouldn't have any impact.

"Dumbledore knows you're anxious. He'll definitely come back immediately after the trial and tell you as soon as possible."

"Maybe Sirius will be acquitted and come back to see you with the professor and the others." Ron leaned back in his chair, munching on chocolate with a carefree air.

Harry felt much better after his two companions offered words of comfort, and the sweet aroma of the Chocolate Frog enveloped his tongue, making the agonizing wait seem less unbearable. But soon, Cormac McLagan broke the peace again, repeatedly asking basic questions about the Patronus Charm, seemingly ignoring Harry and Hermione's opinions and only wanting their agreement.

After sending McLaggan away for the fourth time, Harry felt his anxiety return; he was agitated, felt short of breath, and had chest tightness.

“I need to get some fresh air,” Harry said.

"Do you need us to come with you?" Hermione asked with concern.

Harry shook his head: "Let me be alone for a while."

Instead of returning to his dormitory, he wandered out of the stairwell and strolled aimlessly along the corridor. He unknowingly turned several corners, and just ahead was the principal's office. The oak door was tightly closed, and two snarling stone sculptures of monsters stood in front of it, clearly not welcoming visitors.

Harry stood outside the door for a few minutes, then turned and walked in another direction, still wandering aimlessly. He didn't want to go back to the common room or the Great Hall; the school was full of students practicing the Patronus Charm.

Wandering through the ancient and tranquil corridor, there are very few portraits on the eighth-floor corridor, and ghosts rarely come up, as if they can have this floor to themselves, and those troubles seem to be fading away.

Harry was thinking about what had happened recently, and about Sirius Black.

Just then, he heard footsteps coming from around the corner ahead.

“Jack of Spades, a young man with dark hair…” Professor Trelawney’s voice came from around the corner.

Harry quickly hid behind a suit of armor and watched as Professor Trelawney turned the corner and began shuffling a dirty deck of cards, deciphering the numbers and suits on them.

"10 of spades, violence... 7 of hearts, luck."

As Trelawney passed by, Harry caught a strong smell of sherry, and combined with his slurred, drawn-out speech, he was certain the professor was drunk.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the Divination professor leave, and crawled out to continue walking, but then a strange, hoarse voice sounded behind him.

"This is going to happen tonight."

Harry quickly turned around. Trelawney was acting strangely; her hands were hanging limply at her sides, playing cards were scattered all over the floor, and she was speaking with her head down, her gaze unfocused.

Trelawney seemed to lose consciousness when she said those words, which was much more convincing than her charades when she went back to school.

Harry wondered to himself, "Professor? Professor Trelawney?" But Trelawney was lost in her own world, seemingly oblivious to what was happening. Her eyes began to dart around, and her body twitched slightly, as if she were having an attack of some illness.

Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should go to the school infirmary for help.

Then Professor Trelawney spoke again, her head bowed, her voice still hoarse, completely different from her original voice, as if another soul had taken over her body and was speaking through her mouth.

"In a distant forest, the Dark Lord lay alone, friendless and abandoned by his companions."

"His servants have been locked up for the past twelve years."

"Tonight, before midnight, this servant will break free of his chains and begin searching for his old master."

"The Dark Lord will rise again with the help of his servants, more powerful and terrifying than ever before."

"Tonight...before midnight...that servant...will break free...and return to...his master."

As soon as she finished speaking, Trelawney trembled suddenly, as if waking from a dream. She suddenly raised her head, blinked, and refocused her eyes to see the student in front of her.

"I'm sorry, my dear child, I've had a bit too much to drink... Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing serious..."

Harry stared into Professor Trelawney's eyes, hesitated for a moment, and said, "You seemed to have made a prophecy just now. You told me that the Dark Lord is going to rise again, and his servants are going to return to him..."

"The Black Demon? That person whose name cannot even be mentioned? My dear child, this is no laughing matter... A resurgence? How is that possible?"

Professor Trelawney was completely panicked; he had no recollection of it whatsoever.

"But that's what you just said, isn't it?"

“I think you must have had too much to drink, darling!” Trelawney retorted loudly. “I certainly wouldn’t predict something so far away and terrible!”

After watching the divination professor leave in a hurry, Harry stood there for a few seconds in a daze, then strode towards the common room.

Hermione seems to have dropped the wrong course; Trelawney really does have prophetic abilities!

……

Ministry of Magic, 10th floor underground, First Trial Chamber.

The staff upstairs hurried about, the elevator jingled incessantly, and various letters and documents piled up like mountains. The aftermath of the minister's dismissal had not yet been properly handled, and the court hearing had already begun as scheduled.

This is the most sensational case in the wizarding world in the last decade: Death Eaters escape trial, a kind wizard is wrongly accused for twelve years, escapes from prison to save his godson, and a boy who miraculously survives.

On the ceiling, the Ministry of Magic's wand emblem hangs high, the handle pointing towards the presiding judge's seat, the tip of the wand pointing directly at the suspect's cell.

The courtroom was a rotunda with steps that descended from the outside in. The presiding judge and the jury stood on the outer circle, high above, while Peter and Sirius sat in an iron cage in the center of the rotunda, separated by barbed iron bars.

Peter was looking down, so his face was not visible.

Sirius nodded slightly, gesturing towards the familiar faces on the jury.

The jury, composed of Ministry of Magic staff and Wizengamo councilors, was taking their seats in the side of the rotunda. The staff wore standard black robes with a gold "M" on their chests, while the Wizengamo members wore crimson robes with a delicate silver "W" embroidered on their left breast.

Dumbledore sat calmly in the front row, his expression extremely serene. His deep blue eyes met Sirius's through his crescent-shaped glasses, and his silver-white beard and hair shimmered faintly.

Just sitting there, he exuded an aura of authority, attracting everyone's attention and giving people a sense of security.

Meanwhile, Professor Levent, another heavyweight figure and the mastermind behind the downfall of the two ministers, was sitting discreetly in a corner of the back row of the audience.

“It looks terrifying!” Bagman sat next to Melvin, the gallery also filled with wizards. “The Ministry of Magic hasn’t had a show of this in over a decade. The last time was when Barty Jr. was tried.”

"This is also a trial of Death Eaters, but Mr. Crouch is not the presiding judge."

Melvin looked thoughtfully ahead. The director of the International Affairs Department stood up straight, his expression solemn, with a glint in his eyes. It was unclear what he was thinking at that moment.

"How's the Quidditch World Cup going?" he changed the subject.

“Umbridge truly deserves to have climbed up the ranks on her own merits. Dealing with the competition committee is too easy for a senior deputy minister! She investigated the competition experience of several members separately, using coercion and bribery to break them down one by one. I think she could even become a minister!” Bagman exclaimed in admiration.

In the front row sat the wizard of the Department of Magical Creatures, a faction that originally supported Umbridge, his face grim and unsightly. Walton McNeil, the executioner of the Committee to Deal with Dangerous Animals, sat before them.

McNeil, who had a small tuft of black beard, was originally staring at Peter in the center. Hearing their conversation, he turned around and glanced at the two of them. His eyes were cold, and his thin face twitched slightly.

Bagman paid no attention to the losers and continued, "Mr. Levent, there are still a few months until the Quidditch final. I plan to follow your advice and go to the Muggle world to learn advanced tournament experience, which will ensure that the Magic Mirror Club makes a fortune."

"Shh...the trial has begun."

Bagman wisely shut his mouth; the weight of the gold in the vault was just like the weight the young professor held in his heart—a weighty one.

The courtroom, deep underground, was built of black stone. After the heavy iron doors were closed, only a few torches illuminated the dim room, casting shadows in the rotunda, where the spectators and jury whispered among themselves.

The presiding judge tapped his gavel, and an ominous silence descended.

Ms. Burns's expression was solemn, and her voice echoed in the rotunda:

"The trial on January 31st will examine Sirius Black III's violations of the International Secrecy Act, the Azkaban Regulations, and the Animal Metamorphosis Registration Regulations, as well as Peter Pettigrew's violations of the Animal Metamorphosis Registration Regulations, the Wizarding Penal Code, the International Secrecy Act, and the Muggle Protection Act..."

“You can tell the severity of their punishment just by hearing the crime,” Bagman explained in a low voice. “For Sirius, illegal Animagus is the most serious crime, while for Peter, it is the least serious crime.”

Melvin did not speak.

Ms. Burns has brought down the hammer again:
"Interrogator: Amelia Susan Bornes, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement..."

"I hereby declare the trial officially open!"

(End of this chapter)