Dumbledore slowly shifted his gaze to Fudge, who sat in his chair, pale as a ghost. He clearly hadn't expected to be dragged into this game. At least, that's what he showed. After all, Fudge knew where and at whom he was spitting, so he was prepared to play the role of the innocent, unknowing Minister for Magic.
"Minister?" Dumbledore's voice was soft, but it carried dangerous, suggestive undertones. "Are you prepared to assume the duties of presiding judge?"
Fudge opened his mouth, closed it, looked at Lucius, then at Dumbledore, then at Lord Nott.
"I... of course, if the protocol requires it..."
"It does," Nott cut him off.
"Then... I accept," Fudge forced out, as if no one had breathed a word of this turn of events to him.
Right now, the head of state was also becoming the chief judge of the Wizengamot. This was possible only because many ministers before him had worked hard to change the balance of power. It all started with Nobby Leach, the first Muggle-born Minister for Magic, who took office in 1962. Using all his power and influence among the friendly lords — of which there were few — he managed to push through a small law that added to the Minister's authority.
Gradually, slowly, carefully, so that the lords would only realize it decades later, the rights of the Noble houses began to erode. The law allowed the Minister to replace the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot in the event of his temporary suspension, thereby gaining an additional vote. Now, Dumbledore had lost one of his votes. For the House of Dumbledore, although not among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, was a noble house with the right to sit in the Full Wizengamot.
Nobby Leach left office early in 1968 — Abraxas Malfoy and many of the then Lords were dissatisfied with such a candidate for Minister, especially when they realized that before them was not just a Muggle-born, but an extremely dangerous, intelligent, and powerful politician. A shadow conspiracy forced Leach to resign. Shortly after his resignation, Nobby Leach was found dead. No proof was found against the Malfoys or others. But the law that had been passed remained.
And now, twenty-two years later, that law played into the hands of those who had once tried to destroy it. True, it usually worked against them, eroding the rights of aristocratic families.
"The hearing of December 30th regarding the negligence of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is hereby declared open," Fudge proclaimed. Immediately, ministry scribes began taking minutes. "We are considering the lawsuit to remove the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which position was until recently held by the President of the International Confederation of Wizards, the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, and First-Class Order of Merlin recipient, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Currently temporarily suspended from his post due to negligence in ensuring school safety. The lawsuit is being considered based on suspicions of violating paragraphs six-point-eight and thirteen of the Law on the Organization of the State Autonomous School of Hogwarts, adopted in 1795." Here Fudge paused briefly to catch his breath, but no one was in a hurry to interrupt. "Based on the following clause of the same thirteenth law on the organization of the State Autonomous School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts, the school charter established by the Board of Governors' Rules must be considered by the Supreme Court as a matter of priority."
It was after this that Dumbledore realized that, for the first time, Lucius Malfoy and the new generation of the Conservative party had managed to outmaneuver him, which was a rare occurrence. Only Dumbledore didn't consider such a negative factor to be anything significant, as he had already gone for the gambit, and simply dragging out such a trifle to deprive him of an additional vote was nothing more than child's play.
However, despite Dumbledore's confidence, the Wizengamot began to boil. Dumbledore's supporters and those who wished to become his supporters actively defended Albus Dumbledore, acting as the defense. Meanwhile, the other side and many neutrals, smelling blood, piled out and began to fight on the side of the prosecution. It was one of the longest trials in recent years, so after over an hour of endless arguments and accusations, the court was about to call a ten-minute recess. But finally, it became officially known how it came to pass that Wizengamot members had been detained by Aurors.
"Mr. Minister, I can now explain the whereabouts of Lord Crabbe, Lord Bulstrode, and Lord Goyle," said Madam Bones, rising from her seat, looking very displeased, with a scroll in her hand that someone from the hall had handed her just a minute ago.
"Um… yes, of course," Fudge looked at Amelia in bewilderment. "So what actually happened?"
"At present, Lord Bulstrode, as well as Lord Crabbe and Lord Goyle, are under arrest on suspicion of violating subparagraph thirty-one-two of part fifteen of the law on the storage of dark artifacts," Bones began to read, and with each of her words, Fudge's frown deepened, and an indignant murmur clearly began to rise in the hall. "Investigative actions are currently underway at their places of residence… Signed by the Head of the Auror Office, Alastor Moody."
"Rufus! Explain yourself immediately!" Fudge, red-faced, immediately turned to the bewildered Scrimgeour. "Wizengamot members have been arrested! Investigative actions? Why wasn't I informed?! What the hell operation is this?! Is he out of his mind!?"
"I, um... I was just informed..." poor Scrimgeour, upon whom the minister's wrath had suddenly descended, could only turn pale.
"Cornelius, I believe Mr. Scrimgeour must have simply missed the message," Dumbledore said softly and amiably, slowly raising his wand upwards. All whispers immediately ceased. Dumbledore, who was lounging in a chair on his party's side, wore a long, dark blue robe embroidered with silver stars, and his face expressed unshakeable calm.
"Merlin's beard! Dumbledore! Explain what all this means!" Fudge backed down a bit, swallowing the familiar address.
"I see no cause for concern," Dumbledore replied serenely again, looking at Fudge. "The esteemed Head of the Auror Office — Alastor Moody," he addressed the hall, "received from me, as the presiding judge of the Wizengamot, a warrant for the detention of the aforementioned wizards several hours ago, due to reliable information regarding their violation of the law on the storage of dark artifacts."
"But, with all due respect, Mr. Dumbledore," Madam Bones began in bewilderment, reading the parchment again, "you could not have issued such a decision alone. Detaining Wizengamot members, let alone conducting searches, requires at least a hearing before the Wizengamot's small chamber of authorized judges…"
"Allow me to disagree, Amelia," Dumbledore addressed her with a fatherly smile. "As you read, there is an amendment in the sixth subparagraph, adopted on September 19th, 1988, that allows for such measures to be taken in cases of emergency, with the personal permission of the presiding judge…"
Dumbledore's further words were drowned in a wave of not whispers, but outright shouts:
"Unthinkable!"
"How can that be!"
"Outrageous!"
Most of the Wizengamot members from among the old lords suddenly realized that somewhere along the line, they had voted for the wrong things.
"Silence! Please, calm down! Order, lords and ladies!" red-faced Fudge shouted, hammering his gavel incessantly.
"Arrest, yes, but a search… a search cannot be conducted with the permission of only one judge, even with physical evidence, without clear violations…" Bones quickly pulled out several clearly enchanted tomes and began to read information, after which she turned to Dumbledore.
"I only issued permission for the temporary detention of the aforementioned individuals, under the personal responsibility of Alastor Moody, who assured me of the veracity of the stated violations. I don't remember exactly; old age is not kind to me, but he definitely mentioned dark artifacts received in their time from You-Know-Who. However, you can view a copy of the resolution in the archives, with all the necessary formal paperwork. The rest, I repeat, is unfortunately beyond my competence."
"Rufus?!" Fudge, now crimson from the unfolding farce, instantly turned to Moody's deputy. "Inform Alastor immediately to release the Wizengamot members and report to me! Just imagine, searches?! What permissiveness?!"
"I'll see to it right away! We'll get to the bottom of everything! We need to recall the Aurors."
"Already recalled," came a voice from the entrance to the hall.
Alastor Moody stepped into the aisle, leaning heavily on his wooden leg. His magical eye spun wildly, catching everyone in the hall, while his normal eye looked at Fudge. His Auror's cloak was unfastened, and his face bore the expression of a man who had long since stopped fearing consequences.
"The searches are complete, and the materials have already been documented," he said flatly, without raising his voice, yet it was audible in every corner of the hall. "All according to the law, Minister. You can check."
"Moody!" Fudge squeaked. "You had no right! Without my consent and without the sanction of the Wizengamot!"
"There was a warrant," Moody nodded towards Dumbledore. "The signature of the Supreme Mugwump. That's sufficient."
Fudge opened his mouth, closed it, and turned even redder. His gaze darted between Moody, Dumbledore, and Scrimgeour, who was trying to blend into his chair.
"We... we'll sort this out," he finally forced out.
"I don't doubt it," Moody nodded. He turned and walked heavily towards the exit, looking at no one else. The door closed behind him with a dull thud.
Lucius, standing nearby, turned pale. He clearly did not like this news, even though they had just learned that Moody had arbitrarily decided to detain a couple of Lords, which was literally unacceptable. Both by law and by the traditions of Magical Britain.
Lucius watched Dumbledore intently, who was sitting at the other end of the hall, glancing over at their friendly company. In his eyes, behind the half-moon spectacles, there now appeared something that made many in that hall remember why Albus Dumbledore was so feared by the Wizengamot Lords among his ill-wishers.
At that same moment, Lucius turned to Dumbledore.
"You," Lucius breathed. "This is all your doing!"
"I was merely performing my duty, Lucius," Dumbledore replied confidently. "As were you, as were we all."
He looked around the hall, and steel sounded in his voice instead of the previous mockery.
"You wanted to resolve the question of my competence today? Please. Let's resolve it. But if I am guilty of negligence, then let those who have been hiding dark artifacts in their manors for years also be guilty. If you want justice, do not refuse its full measure."
He looked at the parchment in Lucius's hands.
"Nine signatures. Impressive. But allow me to ask, Lucius: are you certain that all nine are prepared to attest to these signatures?"
Lucius was silent. The hall was quiet, so quiet that any rustle could be heard.
"I demand justice! And the head of the Auror Office must be held accountable for such an outrage with your connivance."
"Justice?" Dumbledore took a step forward. "Very well. Let there be justice. And we will consider everything that comes to light during the process. Everything, without exception. Will that suit you, Lucius?"
He turned to Fudge, who was still standing, not knowing what to do with his hands.
"Cornelius, you have accepted the chairmanship. Make a decision. Do we accept Mr. Malfoy's motion now, or do we first deal with those who may have already broken the law trying to protect their power?"
Fudge opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked at Lucius, who stood frozen like a statue. Looked at Lord Nott, who had suddenly become very pale. Looked at Scrimgeour, who was waiting with his arms crossed.
All of those who remained in the Wizengamot hall during the recess awaited Fudge's answer.
"I... I believe that Mr. Malfoy's motion requires consideration," he finally forced out. "But perhaps not today. In the established order. After... after all the facts have been gathered."
Lucius flinched as if struck.
"Minister, you yourself emphasized the law of priority."
"I promised justice," Fudge interrupted, and suddenly an unexpected firmness cut through his voice. "And I will provide it. But today we are here to decide the fate of a man who spent nine years in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. I will not allow this session to be turned into a farce."
He caught his breath. Soon, everyone was back in their seats, Cornelius Fudge had managed to somewhat appease Dumbledore after that, and Lucius ultimately achieved his goal: today, the case for the review of Sirius Black's case was not being heard by Dumbledore, who, as the accused, was automatically suspended until the final verdict.
"Mr. Malfoy's motion is accepted for consideration. A date will be set later. And now... now we will consider the lawsuit for the review of Sirius Black's case as part of a retrial upon motion. So, esteemed members of the Wizengamot," he announced, his voice once again echoing through the hall. "We begin the trial of Sirius Black. I ask that the accused be brought in."
Lucius sank into his seat, clutching the parchment that had just been his main weapon and now seemed like a useless scrap of paper. Lord Nott, sitting beside him, stared silently ahead. Lady Parkinson, pale, bit her lips. Lord Rowle clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Everyone understood what Dumbledore had wanted to show. Albus had decided to remind them that the Dark Marks still remained on them, and in a worst-case scenario, he could set the dogs on them.
Soon, a figure in prison robes appeared in the center of the hall, in the aisle between the tribunes. Thin, emaciated, with long, tangled hair and sunken cheeks — but with eyes that burned with a fire that nine years in Azkaban could not extinguish.
Sirius Black entered the Wizengamot hall. And beneath the vaulted ceilings of the main hall of Magical Britain, which had witnessed executions and acquittals, rises and falls, a spiral of events that would change everything began to turn once more.
Only who exactly would turn this whirlpool was far from obvious.
The trial proceeded. Mr. Tonks, Sirius Black's lawyer, his voice already sounding quite tired but firm, listed the facts. A Squib found in Knockturn Alley had given testimony in a closed session on November 25th. He had seen that on the night the Potters died, Sirius Black had not blown up the street at all. He had seen another man. A man who had blown up the street with the Muggles, then transformed into a rat and fled into the sewers.
"The forensic examination conducted in 1981," Tonks continued, "unambiguously confirms that no known explosive spell could leave a severed finger from a person who was at the epicenter of an explosion that destroyed a vast area. It is safe to say that the finger was severed before the explosion, deliberately, to create the illusion of death. And the Animagus form of a rat has been confirmed by many independent sources."
The prosecutor — an elderly wizard with a face resembling a ferret, hired by Lucius Malfoy — immediately jumped up:
"The Squib witness refused to undergo evaluation by a mentalist! Refused Veritaserum! His words are empty noise and nothing more!"
"Squibs are afraid of mentalists," Tonks objected. "They are afraid that those who consider them second-class citizens will dig around in their minds. That is not proof of lying!"
"It is proof that he does not want to confirm his words!"
The hall buzzed. Lords shouted out remarks, supporting first one side, then the other. Someone demanded more witnesses be questioned, someone shouted that it was already clear enough. Fudge, clearly enjoying his role as presiding judge, hammered his gavel repeatedly, calling for order.
"The floor is given to the accused!" he announced finally.