The trial

One hour after destroying the fortress, Voldemort landed in the garden of Malfoy Manor and went to the throne room where several Death Eaters were waiting for him.

Peter, go free Karkaroff. Tell him that Voldemort is grateful to him. Ordered Voldemort.

If this order surprised him, he showed nothing. Peter simply bowed slightly and replied:

Yes master.

Then he rushed at full speed towards the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Voldemort appreciated the rat more and more. He was so servile. He should have recruited more Gryffindors. The advantage with those fools is that they don't think of betraying you.

Immediately, another Death Eater knelt before him.

Master? I found information on the symbol you are looking for.

The Death Eater displayed a newspaper in front of him with the symbol of the three Hallows on the cover. Despite his mask, intense pride emanated from the Death Eater's posture. Clearly, he was expecting a great reward. Voldemort was about to agree when he saw the headline of the newspaper in question. He then exclaimed angrily:

The Lovegood rag. It's barely better than the gazette. Don't bother me with such nonsense.

Disappointed, the Death Eater withdrew hastily. Before Voldemort could give any orders, another of his Death Eaters began to give him a tedious summary of Dumbledore's latest maneuvers and that ridiculous trial.

I don't care about these trifles. Bring me immediately all the information we have on the order's hideouts.

But master, you must ...

Endoloris! You dare tell me what to do. If I wanted an opinion, I would ask dear Nagini and not the idiots that you are.

Ignoring the Death Eater who was moaning pitifully on the ground, he began to absentmindedly stroke his dear pet snake while losing himself in his thoughts. He had missed her during this long journey. She was the only creature he felt close to. The only one who would never betray him. The only one worthy of being entrusted with his most precious possession. An idea sprouted in him. It was decided, he would use the Dursleys' murder to create a new horcrux. His familiar was unaware, but he was soon going to bestow a great honor upon her.

Without a word to his servants, he left the room, gesturing for Nagini to follow. If he had been more attentive, he would have noticed that he had just stepped over the lifeless body of the Death Eater who had dared to argue his orders. His Cruciatus Curse had been far too powerful. As they removed the body from the throne room, the Death Eaters couldn't help but murmur among themselves.

oOoOoOoOo

Silence! Luci.. Mr. Malfoy, I fear we can wait no longer. We will begin immediately. Boomed the voice of Fudge to whom Dumbledore had temporarily ceded the presidency of the Wizengamot.

Fudge had been surprised by this choice, but had not pursued it further as he was thrilled by the opportunity given to him to put the overly ambitious pureblood in his place. And perhaps to discover why Lucius had suddenly become so bold. For some time, his behavior resembled that of a cornered animal who, having nothing left to lose, was throwing all his strength into a final assault. Fudge hoped it was merely an excess of pride that he could quash today with a good old public humiliation followed by a very short media campaign.

If things were more serious and the purist camp was threatened by he didn't know what, he would find himself alone against Dumbledore's camp. Needless to say, it would be the end of him. He wouldn't have time to say Merlin before he would be replaced by a puppet of Dumbledore or by one of those idealists he was so fond of (knowing Dumbledore, the second choice seemed more likely to him).

Maybe he should go easy on Lucius? No, his teams had worked day and night searching for the slightest clue, and everything indicated that the purist camp was doing better than ever. The polls in their favor were stable, and the intelligence services had found no scandal. Or rather, none likely to bring down its leaders (there were only the usual bribes, rape accusations, and racist behavior). At worst, he could always use the gazette to polish their image.

Mr. President. I beg you to grant us additional time. I do not know what delayed him like this, but I assure you that he will come shortly. Pleaded Lucius Malfoy.

Mr. Malfoy. With all due respect, we have already been very patient. Realize that given the identity of the main party involved, the entire Wizengamot has convened to judge a simple child custody case. You cannot ask the most eminent members of our community to sacrifice more of their time. Consider yourself already fortunate that this court is composed of impartial professionals who will judge this case without taking into account the blatant negligence you have shown by allowing the survivor to wander without the slightest supervision. I, who had so much respect for your seriousness, am surprised. But anyway, let's start by welcoming your first witness. Oh! That's right, excuse me. It was Mr. Potter. So we will move on to our next speaker. Madam Sprout, please step forward.

Lucius refrained from delivering a scathing retort to the immeasurable fool that was Fudge. Instead, he maintained a dignified silence while Sprout was questioned as the head of Potter's house. But internally, anger mingled with fear.

What had gotten into his master's head? If the jury declared that his host had to return to live with his bumpkins, he could be sure that the dark lord would not forgive him. And if he dared to insinuate that it was his fault, it would be even worse. He did not forget that from now on, he had more to lose than his own life. When the dark lord informed him that he intended to settle at his place, he felt honored. Then he realized that it would mean Draco would be permanently within range of his wand.

He had to make a difficult decision. He knew that Draco would not forgive him easily (his wife, in any case, would never forgive him), but from the beginning of the summer, he had entrusted him to his lifelong comrade-in-arms: Theodore Nott Sr., with instructions to prepare him to serve their lord with dignity.Fortunately, he was pulled out of his dark thoughts by the shrill voice of Dolores Umbridge (good god, how he hated that old hag)

Well, all of this is very well, Madame Chourave, but I fear that this does not teach us much. I do note, however, that no one really made sure that the survivor was well treated during all these years.

As I said, there was no reason to think he had been mistreated. Quite the opposite. He always insisted on returning to their home during school holidays.

Except during his third year. It's strange. It's the first time I've heard of a child who prefers to spend Christmas holidays with his teachers rather than with his parents. It seems to me that if you had done your job properly, you would have at least had a discussion with him about this subject.

A commotion took over the room. Lucius smiled. With a bit of luck, he wouldn't need his master's presence. Fudge, visibly surprised and displeased by the behavior of his loyal subordinate, used all his authority to calm the room and berated his secretary:

Madam Undersecretary, may I know what you are getting at? Madam Sprout is not accused as far as I know. And besides, you are not the prosecution lawyer either. Please stay in your place, I beg you.

Excuse me, Mr. Minister, this will not happen again. Simpered Umbridge with exaggerated deference.

Lucius's smile disappeared immediately. Umbridge's support would undoubtedly be useful, but he knew that without the testimony of the survivor himself, he had no chance of opposing the joint efforts of Dumbledore and Fudge. Despite appearances, Malfoy knew that Dumbledore would be maneuvering during this trial. For all he knew, it was he who was behind his master's absence. He turned and shot a dark look at the man sitting a few rows away in the middle of the audience.

Lucius would have been surprised to learn that beneath his peaceful demeanor, the headmaster was just as worried as he was about the turn of events. "Where was Voldemort?" he kept wondering. Dumbledore no longer understood Voldemort's actions, and it worried him almost as much as the fact that he was in possession of the Deathly Hallows. It had been weeks since he returned, and nothing was happening. Dumbledore had expected him to try to remain discreet while recruiting new allies, but not to this extent. No mysterious disappearances, no increase in the number of murders. Not even a slight increase in the trafficking of dark magic objects.

And there, Voldemort was ignoring a trial that would determine whether the Ministry's forces would try to oppose his will. It made no sense. What could be more important than that? He looked at the members of the Order deployed in the room. Dumbledore had brought back everyone he could by promising them proof that Voldemort was indeed back. Maybe that was his plan? Dumbledore thought. To make him look like a fool to the Order members so they would abandon him. "And why not wait until we die of old age," he heard Severus's voice mock him. No, he knew Voldemort well enough to know that was not his style. Especially after so many years of frustration. There was something else, but what? All he knew was that whatever the Dark Lord's hidden plans were, they probably involved hundreds of innocent deaths and a significant reduction in his chances of victory. He absolutely had to find out what it was.

We have heard enough, Madam Pomfrey. You may return to your seat. Next witness. I call Mr. Remus Lupin to the stand. Declared Cornelius Fudge.

Lupin awkwardly got up from his seat. He nervously advanced to the stand, searching for Dumbledore with his eyes to give himself strength. Then Lupin began to deliver the story he had worked out with the old man. Lupin did not like lying in front of a court and had hesitated until the last moment to tell the truth. But what had happened with Sprout had convinced him that it was not an option. Not if he wanted to save Harry.

But he was interrupted in the middle of his speech by a shrill voice.

Excuse me, Mr. Lupin, you say that you have become Mr. Harry's guardian? Isn't it illegal for a werewolf to hold a job where they will be in contact with a minor? Asked Umbridge with an innocent look.

Not at the time. He replied angrily, remembering that it was she who had recently passed that abhorrent law that practically prohibited him from any work.

But he quickly realized that he should have held back his anger more. The tone of his response only accentuated the shock that had seized the crowd upon learning the true nature of the man whom, under Fudge's orders, the gazette had been presenting for a week as a war hero and the best friend of the Potters.

Madam Umbridge, you are overstepping the bounds. This has nothing to do with the case we are judging. Fudge protested.

Moreover, the information contained in the register of magical creatures is confidential. And since I doubt that Mr. Lupin informed you of his condition, I will have to... began Amelia Bones (the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a great enemy of Umbridge) before being rudely interrupted by Lucius.

On the contrary, it seems to me that it is at the heart of the matter. What better proof of the indifference they had for their adopted son. No, hatred I should say. They prevented him from going to Hogwarts and entrusted his education to a creature of the dark. His classes were so mediocre that Mr. Potter had to repeat his first year when they finally allowed him to go to Hogwarts. How could loving parents not have realized it sooner? How could loving parents have accepted to...

Silence! Silence or I will clear the hall, shouted Fudge without success to calm the commotion that had seized the audience during Malfoy's tirade.

Dumbledore stood up and spread his power throughout the room. Fudge noticed with immense jealousy that everyone immediately fell silent.

The probity and competence of Mr. Lupin are not in question. If the Dursleys chose him, it's because I recommended him by praising his exemplary academic background, his excellent sense of pedagogy, and his heroic behavior during the war, which makes him one of the few wizards who cannot be suspected of having cooperated with the Death Eaters in any way. Few in this room can say the same. The Dursleys wanted the best for Harry, and I indicated to them that it was Lupin. If anyone has something to criticize about this choice, they should address it to me. He proclaimed, staring at Lucius.

He seemed to collapse under the weight of his gaze. After a certain time, Fudge thought it good to add in a mocking tone:

Do you have anything to add, Mr. Malfoy?

No, nothing, your honor. I will let Mr. Lupin continue his testimony.

Very well, Mr. Lupin, please continue.

Thank you, Mr. Minister, as I was telling you ...

Fudge stopped listening to Lupin's speech. Anyway, he didn't care how the Dursleys treated the survivor. He had never understood the adulation the boy received. By Dumbledore's own admission, he was just a child who had been lucky that an unpredictable magical phenomenon occurred when the Dark Lord wanted to kill him.

On the other hand, the way things were evolving worried him a lot. He thought as he wiped the sweat that had started to bead on his face.

He had expected many things during this trial, but not a betrayal from Umbridge. He had always thought that the old toad was the embodiment of loyalty. A narrow-minded bureaucrat who would do anything asked of her without the slightest scruple. Especially if it involved crushing or mistreating a few marginalized opponents of her dear ministry's power. But so be it. Since the toad had decided to unleash her venom, as soon as the trial ended, he was going to crush her without the slightest pity. She would quickly learn that she was not as indispensable as she thought.

Ahem! Ahem! Umbridge pretended to cough to interrupt her.

Lupin ignored him and tried to continue.

I had just arrived at the Dursleys' for...

Hum! Hum!

had to give lessons to Mr. Potter. I immediately noticed ...

Hmm! Hmm!

um uh I ...

Hum! Hum!

Madame Umbridge, do you have a question? Finally asked, exasperated, the werewolf who could no longer find his words because the horrible woman was distracting him so much.

Before Fudge could intervene, she replied:

No. I was just wondering if the Dursleys had been informed of your condition. I remind you that you are under oath.

No, of course! Replied the wolf frankly, convinced that this would dispel any accusation against the Dursleys.

In this case, I think that Madam Bones will agree with me in saying that it is a blatant violation of law no. 89-462 of July 6, 1989, which requires werewolves to report their condition to their employer. Consequently, Mr. Lupin should not be considered a reliable witness. In fact, he should not be heard at all and should be immediately imprisoned.

This is perfectly ridiculous! exclaimed Fudge, turning to Bones.

These said with regret:

She is absolutely right.

But she quickly continued with much more joy:

However, the decision to condemn or not a magical creature for such acts falls under the choice of the Department of Magical Justice. Yet, I am firmly opposed to such a decision. Not to mention that the condemnation must be preceded by the sending of a magical registered letter summoning him to a meeting where he can plead his case. I would of course do this as soon as possible, but in the meantime, Mr. Lupin is protected from any repressive measures.

Do not trouble yourself, my dear. I know how busy you are, so to make your life easier, I slipped the papers authorizing proceedings against Mr. Lupin into last month's invoices. I also took care of sending the summons to the address he declared in the magical creatures file. Unfortunately, he never showed up.

What did you do!? yelled Fudge. Bones remained silent, but she thought no less. By what right was the toad appropriating her prerogatives?

If my initiative offended you, I am ready to take responsibility for it. However, I fear that it is necessary to imprison this tainted blood that has deliberately defied your authority by admitting without any shame to having violated the laws you have enacted. I fear that you ...

But I received nothing. Otherwise, I would have violently contested. You need proof and a trial! shouted Lupin, who managed to overcome the shock he had felt when she insulted him in front of the entire room without anyone reacting. By living under the protective shadow of Dumbledore and his former companions in arms, he had ended up forgetting how racist wizarding society was.

A trial for animals!? Exclaimed Umbridge. And it's not the ministry's fault if you lead such a dissolute life that in over a week, you never returned home. Unless you provided a false address in the file. That's a very serious crime, you know. Until we know more, I insist that Mr. Lupin not be allowed to testify. In fact, given that he was the one who filed the complaint, I think we should stop this ridiculous trial. To think that a half-blood dared to file a lawsuit against one of the most respectable members of our community.

And what about Harry's interest? You can't leave him in Malfoy's hands. Lupin shouted with all his might.

You see what kind of beast Mr. Potter has been exposed to due to the Dursleys' ignorance? It would be much better to leave him under my responsibility. In any case, as tragic as it is, this noble court cannot make exceptions to our laws. Even for the survivor. Declared Lucius Malfoy in his sweet voice.

Silence! Silence! Fudge shouted, making a thudding noise with his wand until calm returned to the room. Once his authority was restored, he gave a brief smile that quickly faded when he realized everyone was watching him, waiting for what would come next.

Now, Fudge did not know what to do. He knew well that Umbridge's pseudo-legal argumentation did not hold up. He was almost sure of it. In any case, he knew that his meager knowledge would not allow him to win a legal debate against Umbridge. Perhaps she hoped to drag him onto this field and publicly humiliate him. Lucius must have promised to give her his position, and she had decided that she was finally tired of playing second fiddle.

The logical solution would have been to give way to Amelia Bones, who would take great pleasure in publicly destroying Umbridge, but he had suspected for years that Dumbledore was working for Amelia to take his place. Fudge thought harder than he had in years to try to find a way out. Why did everyone suddenly seem determined to break the fragile balance that had ensured the peace of their world for almost 15 years?

But he was saved by the dramatic opening of the doors. He welcomed this diversion with such relief that he forgot to berate the individuals responsible, who had probably committed a dozen infractions by entering the room in the middle of the hearing.

A young girl with characteristic red hair entered, breathless.

Miss Weasley, what are you doing here? Dumbledore asked gently before anyone could intervene.

I... I... It seems you needed me to testify? Asked Ginny, trying to catch her breath.

She was quickly joined by the Weasley twins, also out of breath, who positioned themselves on either side of their sister, wands raised like bodyguards.

Not me, but justice always needs additional testimonies to get closer to the truth. Do you have anything to reproach Mr. Malfoy for?

Objection, she's a minor, she has no business being here. And she's not even on the list of witnesses. Protested Lucius Malfoy.

If I am not mistaken, the Weasley clan is part of the Sacred 28 of the Pure-Blood Registry. According to recent laws, which I believe you initiated, this kind of consideration does not apply to Miss Weasley. Dumbledore replied with a smile.

He gave a benevolent smile to Ginny, who said hesitantly:

Because of him, You-Know-Who possessed me. And now he has done the same to Harry.

Upon hearing his words, the room became agitated again and a light of understanding dawned in Fudge's mind. So that was the reason for Lucius's strange behavior. Once again, Dumbledore had proven more capable than his agents and had managed to get his hands on evidence of a crime that could bring Lucius down. Consequently, Lucius had to obtain supreme power at all costs before that little idiot spoke and they were sent to Azkaban for his numerous crimes.

It was the worst-case scenario for Fudge. Before tomorrow, the purists' camp would lose their leader and Fudge would be replaced by Amelia Bones (or another of Dumbledore's puppets). Unless Umbridge took advantage of her brilliant performance during this trial and her extremely positive reputation among conservative wizards to replace Lucius as the figurehead of the purists. Yes, all the pieces were falling into place in his mind. Far from betraying him, Umbridge had just saved his skin once again. But in the future, he would need to keep an eye on her. He would never have suspected that the toad harbored such ambitions.

Far from these speculations, Umbridge was furious. Because of those stupid laws passed by Lucius, she could do nothing against a member of the Sacred 28, and there was no way she would let that beast win. When she discovered the true nature of this Remus, her blood boiled. As long as she had an ounce of power left, there was no way the ministry would grant anything other than a dose of cyanide to these monstrosities.

If I understand correctly, Miss Weasley, you wish to claim on behalf of Mr. Lupin that the guardianship of Mr. Potter be returned to his uncle and aunt? Asked Dumbledore, who, without consulting anyone, had taken the role of prosecutor.

Uh...? Ginny replied eloquently.

That means you want the ministry to force the Malfoys to return Mr. Potter to the Dursleys, the old man explained to the young girl.

Yes, of course. How can you think it would be a good idea to entrust the survivor's custody to a Death Eater?

Lucius was immediately offended:

If it were not out of consideration for your young age, I would file a complaint for defamation. During this war, I committed atrocious acts, but only because I was under the spell of the imperium. These accusations are aInsult. Moreover, it would be in your interest not to forget that it was this court that long ago established my complete innocence. In your place, I would weigh my words a little more. Your allegations could be considered contempt of court.

I didn't say former Death Eater. He still serves You-Know-Who. He's trying to use Harry to resurrect him. Ginny asserted, now more at ease.

Fortunately for Ginny, the arrival of a patronus stopped the uproar that her sentence had just raised. It leaned towards the director's ear then disappeared. For a moment, the director seemed to sag. Briefly, the image of the great wizard with imposing power whom no one would think to defy vanished to give way to an immensely sad old man. Then so quickly that the audience believed they had dreamed, he straightened up and displayed his power. With all his authority he then declared:

In fact, he has already been resurrected. An Austrian friend just informed me that Voldemort has taken possession of Mr. Potter and recently attacked the Nurmengard fortress. It was completely destroyed by magic so powerful that it can only be the work of the Dark Lord. If further proof was needed, the Dark Mark is currently floating above the remains of the former prison. That's why Mr. Potter wasn't present. The real question now is why Mr. Malfoy isn't with his master instead of getting involved in this masquerade. This trial no longer makes any sense and we must immediately prepare for a new war.

The Aurors and the numerous members of the order present in the room tensed and began to encircle Lucius Malfoy, who remained motionless and silent (at the same time, thus encircled, he had no other choice). Lucius did not know why his master had made what seemed to him a monumental blunder. Until now, Lucius had severely reprimanded those who dared to question their leader's sanity in his presence. Since the extraordinary pardon he had received, Lucius was determined not to doubt his lord anymore. But at this moment, he could not see how to explain his master's actions other than by madness.

You're delusional, Albus. Exclaimed Fudge in surprise.

Fudge no longer understood anything. What is this story? Umbridge starting to have personal ambitions and now this? Fudge did not like the turn of events at all. He saw before his eyes the collapse of the game he had been playing successfully for years. No, it couldn't be possible. Their world couldn't experience a second war. He had barely survived the first one. It had to be a scheme by Dumbledore to oust him. His loyal Umbridge had seen it coming and had begun to counter-attack. Lucius didn't matter. The real danger was Dumbledore. It always had been. After all, in recent years, his role had been more about moderating Albus's power than that of the Malfoys. Fudge gathered all his authority and shouted angrily:

Dumbledore, you are going too far. Withdraw those ridiculous words immediately. You-Know-Who has been dead for over 13 years now. And what is with all these armed wizards? Are they your men? What are you trying to do? He accused, pretending not to have noticed before the significant number of Dumbledore's supporters attending the trial.

I am trying to fight Voldemort and all those who will serve him. All I want to know is whether you will help me or not? Dumbledore shouted, unleashing his power.

Like everyone else in the audience, Fudge yelped upon hearing the cursed name. But what shocked him the most was Dumbledore's behavior. Never, since the war, had he seen him so threatening. Without even thinking, he lost all combativeness and asked in an almost pleading tone:

Let's see, Albus, what's gotten into you? You don't really think he's back, do you? Just because of a mark and the testimony of a visibly disturbed little girl?

In fact, as your secretary can explain to you, I have proof of his return since the beginning of the summer. But because of his actions up to now, I have been forced to remain silent (in order to increase his chances that the ministry sides with him, he deliberately avoided specifying Umbridge's role as well as other senior ministry officials). However, for one reason or another, the Dark Lord thinks he no longer has a reason to hide, and finally gives me the opportunity to alert the wizarding world. Cornelius, I understand…

But to Dumbledore's great disappointment, the minister interrupted him, furious:

I will tell you what I understand. You invented this ridiculous story to try to clear your name. No one has forgotten that you were the one who took charge of Potter's guardianship and decided to entrust him to the Dursleys. I never would have believed this of you, but you have become so power-hungry that you are ready to invent anything to avoid losing.the faceTell your men to step back and let the trial proceed. And especially your werewolf. He said, pointing at Lupin who had, with relief, given up his place and was now standing with his wand raised next to his fellow members of the order.

I fear that it is not possible, said Albus kindly.

I warn you Albus, if your men do not comply, I will have to order the aurors to arrest them.

The said Aurors exchanged glances and three-quarters decided to stop aiming at Lucius Malfoy and to point their wands at the members of the Order.

Albus was about to answer when an alarm rang throughout the ministry. An alarm that hadn't been heard for 13 years. Immediately, the Aurors and members of the Order fraternized to rush out of the courtroom following Dumbledore, superbly ignoring Fudge's orders. Once in the hall, Dumbledore grabbed the arm of the wizard at the reception who was trying to calm everyone present and simply asked him:

Where?

The man could not withstand the intense gaze of the old sorcerer and replied while lowering his eyes:

The alarm comes from the wizard village of Newcastle, but it is probably a false alarm...

Dumbledore and the men behind him did not waste any more time discussing and immediately apparated.

oOoOoOoOo

One hour earlier:

Voldemort was enraged. It was the fifth stronghold of the order he attacked, but each time the places turned out to be completely empty. Had another traitor besides Snape infiltrated the ranks of his loyal Death Eaters and fed them false information? Or were his loyal Death Eaters simply too stupid to do their job properly? Now that heHe realized that he might not have paid enough attention to his Death Eaters. In fact, beyond that, he had been so busy with his research on the Deathly Hallows and his attempts to master his host that he hadn't even started recruiting new allies. As soon as he returned, that should stop.

But in the meantime, he had to find an outlet for his anger. Preferably a member of the order. Unless he settled for a few Muggles, he thought, watching a group of Muggle boys about fifteen years old riding abominably noisy scooters on the road leading to a lake very popular with locals during heatwave days. No, he hadn't come to have fun, but to eliminate the last obstacle to his absolute power.

He reopened the file that his Death Eaters had provided him and examined it more closely. Essentially, his Death Eaters had merely listed Dumbledore's properties based on various public information, including inheritance data. He acknowledged that his Death Eaters had done an impressive job of locating the potential hideouts of the order despite the multiple shell companies and legal trickery set up by the lemony one. If he didn't know this old idealist so well, he would have suspected his former teacher of trying to build a real estate empire by stripping the war orphans under his care. Dumbledore might have had the prudence to abandon them, realizing it would be possible for his Death Eaters to locate them. No, that was unlikely. The Order of the Phoenix did not have the luxury of being so cautious. The truth is that most of the current members were not wealthy enough for the order to change premises so easily. Not to mention the time it would have taken to erect protections as powerful as those he had to face in new places.

But that did not tell him where his enemies were. Out of frustration, he took another address at random and whistled:

— Nagini, my beautiful, come see your master.

But nothing answered him.

Intrigued, he moved forward into the house in search of his snake.

— Nagini, you know I don't like waiting. Where are you?

Worried, he cast a locating spell that directed him to the cellar of the large manor in Newcastle, which once served as a secondary residence for the Longbottoms. Wand in hand, he rushed to find his snake examining a wall.

— Nagini, why didn't you answer me?

The snake continued to remain motionless. By listening closely, he heard it murmur:

— Blood. Where are you little mouse? The master demands your impure blood.

Intrigued, Voldemort advanced and felt a tingling sensation. Something was trying to attack his Occlumency shields. He was beginning to understand what had happened to his serpent. Multiple protections, including a powerful confusion spell, had been placed along the wall at the back of the cellar. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? Since the time of Grindelwald, most purebloods had equipped their homes with a panic room. Hidden and extremely well-protected rooms using both Muggle and wizarding techniques. In times of peace, these rooms often served to hide their little family secrets. The Malfoys, for example, had an impressive collection of dark magic artifacts in a secret room located under the rug in their winter parlor.

He concentrated on methodically undoing the spells that covered the cellar.

Stupefy!

Avada kedavra.

Without even thinking about it, he raised his hand and a wave of magic spread around him, taking with it the floor of the room (and all the objects piled up in the cellar), thus creating a barrier against which the spells crashed.

A duel began against the two wizards who had just appeared behind him, certainly thinking to surprise him. A man and a woman. It seemed to him that they were two members of the order he had already fought during the last war.

Diggle. Cover me. I'm going to try to get them out.

Yes, now he remembered. It was Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle. They had aged so much in 14 years that he had almost not recognized them. He was going to put an end to their pathetic lives before the ravages of time degraded them even more.

He first focused on Hestia Jones, who had the audacity to think that her partner could protect her from his fury. He could have easily deprived them of their wands, but preferred to go slowly. With a spell, he slammed Dedalus against the wall then, rid of this nuisance, focused on Hestia. He began by cutting off an arm, which Nagini hastened to devour before her horrified eyes. How good it was to finally hear screams of terror at his approach. This would be his first murder in 14 years (in Voldemort's eyes, those in the Nurmengard fortress didn't count as much, as he had done them mechanically and without really wanting to). But before:

Legilimens

He searched his mind, taking great care to linger on the most painful memories and destroy the good ones. Then he started and a wide smile spread across his lips.

Feudeymon. He shouted

Immediately, Hestia Jones's body was incinerated by the power of the spell. But it was not her that Voldemort was targeting. The curse then rushed to the wall behind him, quickly consuming it. As Hestia's memories showed, behind it he found a bunker apparently intended to serve as a refuge for four people during an attack. Except it was empty.

Voldemort screamed in rage and rushed at Diggle.

Where are they? He demanded in front of the terrified sorcerer.

He gathered his courage and challenged him with a look, replying:

With a bit of luck, they are already far away, snake face. With a wave of his hand, he broke the man's neck then rushed up the stairs and found that it was not too late. In front of his eyes, that big pig Vernon Dursley was struggling to drag Petunia outside. But it wasn't a feeling of triumph that overcame him. He tried to raise his wand, but couldn't. He was like paralyzed. He then met the hideous horse-like eyes of that miserable Muggle and immediately felt a pain like he had never known. It was atrocious and he felt himself losing his footing.

Harry, it's me, it's mom.

Before he could react, the Feudeymon now out of control emerged from the cellar and a wall of flame separated them. Vernon forcibly pulled his wife outside and pulled a soda can from his pocket, then they suddenly disappeared. The pain vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He then realized that Nagini was standing terrified against him. All around them,The flames spread and cracks appeared in the walls. Filled with fury, he shouted, unleashing his magic. The house collapsed around him in a deluge of flame.

Once calmed, he wanted to think about the situation, but Dumbledore chose that moment to arrive with almost all of his order. A perfect opportunity to test his new powers, he thought as he advanced confidently toward the newcomers. But he hadn't taken a step when dizziness overtook him. For the first time in a long time, Voldemort felt weak. He then realized that he was desperately alone. He perhaps shouldn't have come without his Death Eaters.

Morsmordre. You arrive too late, Dumbledore. Or too early. The time has not yet come for me to kill you. He declared before disapparating.

Everyone looked up at the sky and saw the mark of darkness shining brightly. Only a few noticed Dumbledore's panicked look before he rushed into what remained of the ruins.

oOoOoOoOo

Chaos at the Ministry

The long-awaited trial to decide the custody of the survivor had to be interrupted due to an outbreak of violence from Dumbledore's supporters. In a fit of madness upon seeing the trial slip away from him, he began to proclaim that You-Know-Who was back and possessed young Harry Potter.

In his interview on page 5, Mr. Malfoy stated that he was more than shocked by the director's behavior and more determined than ever to protect the survivor from his actions. Before the Minister of Magic (who was exceptionally presiding over the session) could call to order the most fanatical supporters of the illustrious old man, the alarm indicating that a powerful dark magic attack had just taken place rang throughout the ministry. Needless to say, after Dumbledore's fanciful statements, this triggered a wave of fright among all present. The Aurors' training then took precedence, and as one, they Apparated to the village of Newcastle just before the Dark Mark appeared in the sky.

Once they arrived in front of the cottage above which the mark was floating, they were astonished to find that Dumbledore and his troops had preceded them. Apparently, unlike the Aurors, they knew where to go. Once the fire was extinguished, they searched the debris for potential victims and clues about what had happened while their colleagues questioned the headmaster to reveal how he knew it was this house that was under attack.

During the excavation, they discovered with horror the charred corpse of the war heroes: Madam Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle (on page 7 a reminder of their brave stance against the Dark Lord during the last war and the disagreements that recently opposed them to Dumbledore according to our source at the ministry)

However, the authorities are keen to be reassuring. Although the investigation is only just beginning, nothing indicates that they have been the victim of the Dark Lord. The spokesperson for the Aurors even stated that it would be completely irresponsible to assert the contrary in the current state of the investigation (without explicitly naming Dumbledore). Nevertheless, the latter renewed his accusations against Mr. Potter at a press conference a little later in the evening.

Other officials were less courteous. Several publicly took offense that the director could accuse without the slightest proof our savior of becoming a dark mage and a murderer. How, at his age, could he have destroyed the protections that the director himself had put in place? "Knowing how someone other than the director could have broken these protections is one of the many questions the investigation will have to answer," declared the auror in charge of the investigation. Of course, for the moment, no one is accusing the famous white mage, but suspicions are accumulating against the wizard who has made questionable decisions with sometimes dramatic consequences (see a summary on page 3 of the suspicious deaths linked to Dumbledore over the past three years).

The rest of the article only talked about the consequences on the proper conduct of the World Cup due to the tense political situation (occasionally throwing in completely off-topic jabs about Dumbledore and his entourage). There wasn't even a mention of the destruction of the Nurmengard fortress. At the same time, what did he expect? The average wizard was too stupid to be interested in what was happening in such a distant place. Especially in the middle of a Quidditch World Cup.

Voldemort stopped his reading and threw the rag into the fireplace that the elves had lit despite the heat of that summer night. As good servants, if they were surprised by his request, they showed nothing and simply obeyed as quickly as possible and almost ran away from the dark wizard with a youthful appearance. Voldemort then lost himself in the contemplation of the flames. For as long as he could remember, the sight of burning fire had had a calming effect on him. Already, it reminded him of his early days at Hogwarts and his long evenings observing his classmates in the Slytherin common room searching for their weaknesses. Everything was far from ideal at that time, but compared to the orphanage where he had grown up, it was paradise. But above all, he was fascinated by the destructive power of fire. How many nights had he spent (before arriving at Hogwarts) looking for a way to set the orphanage on fire (after blocking the door to the matron's room)?

From now on, he had other sources of distraction much more enriching, such as the torture of prisoners. Nevertheless, he always insisted that a fire be lit in his room. Without intense heat at the moment of falling asleep, the memories of the many cold showers he had to endure in his childhood risked resurfacing.

Nevertheless, today, sleep was out of the question. He had to review the day and establish his strategy. The search for his powers, then the exhilarating feeling of becoming more powerful than he had dreamed, had led him to make many mistakes. And he couldn't rely forever on Fudge's stupidity to cover up his blunders. He should never have launched the Dark Mark and even less rushed into an attack on all the Order's bases he knew. Despite the Ministry's efforts, seeing the Dark Mark floating above a crime scene had revived bad memories for many wizards. And even if few dared to admit it, many feared that Dumbledore might be telling the truth. If the day had taught him anything, it was that even the most unstoppable force would fail if it didn't show at least a minimum of intelligence.

Indeed, despite his new powers, all he had managed to achieve was to make the Dursleys flee to a hiding place he did not know. If he had thought it through, he would have had the place watched for weeks in order to determine atwhat the places were for and he would have attacked the Dursleys' hideout with several of his Death Eaters to prevent his targets from escaping. There, he had wasted his afternoon destroying empty houses. Moreover, destroying all those protections after having traveled so much had pushed his body to the limit (no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't see any other explanations for what had happened when he found himself facing the Dursleys). He had to remember that despite the support provided by the three relics, his host was still a child of barely 14 years old, with all the limitations that implied.

If only he had wondered why all his hiding places were empty, he would have remembered that the cursed trial was taking place today. He would have understood that Dumbledore had mobilized all his men to try to ambush him at the ministry. Potter's mind must have been clouding his thoughts more than he realized for him to behave so stupidly.

He spent the rest of the night rummaging through the few memories of Potter that were accessible to him and those he had been able to obtain when fits of murderous rage had allowed the piece of soul trapped in his body to access his mind. Voldemort was fascinated by the progress made by the Muggle world. He would never have guessed that they had acquired such power after 1944. Patiently, he devised his plan. At dawn, he fell asleep with the certainty that soon the whole world would bow at his feet. At least what would remain of it once he was done with it.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: I am not satisfied with this chapter. My initial ambition was for this chapter to be a politico-judicial battle between Umbridge, Dumbledore, and Fudge worthy of a Death Note scenario. I wanted Umbridge to bring out truly surprising and intelligent legal arguments. However, I have no knowledge of law and unfortunately, I don't have the time to do research to fill my gaps and find inspiration. So I had to resign myself to Umbridge relying on a somewhat ridiculous bluff. I hope that one day I can rewrite this part but for now, I will settle for it.