A dark, damp corner piled with decaying wooden boxes, with the background being a wall carved with wavy wood patterns.
Our protagonist, Igor Karkaroff, is curled up in the shadows formed between the floor and the wall. His pale face is a tapestry of fear, greed, and a kind of neurotic excitement. In front of him, there is no one else, only an old mirror filled with cracks and emitting ominous green light—Gubraithian Fire barely illuminates his twisted features.
The next moment, a cold, distorted voice, like the overlapping whispers of countless souls, emanates from the mirror—a young female voice that immediately sounds evil—
"...My dear servant, my most loyal servant... How are the preparations going? We must hurry before that madman..."
"Yes! Yes! Respected Lord Helbo! I... I understand very well! Krum! He is an excellent Seeker, agile and determined... cough, cough!"
Seemingly realizing that he was talking about Quidditch with an ancient being from two or three thousand years ago, Karkaroff suddenly reacts, "Al-although he's a bit foolish! But trust me, he can definitely divert those people's attention—for you... for us to get the key!"
His voice is somewhat trembling, filled with a frenzied urgency.
"Oh? You are... very good at arranging destinies for your students, Igor..." The female voice took on a hint of amusement.
"No, no, no! It's not destiny! It's... it's honor! It's his privilege to be able to serve you!"
"Very well, let him—I've already told you the method, remember, the action must be fast... it must be as fast as lightning, only then can we..." The female voice sharply cut off, followed by a chilling laugh.
"Yes, ma'am! He... he listens to me the most..."
Karkaroff slowly knelt down, although he was already curled into a ball, it seemed no different from kneeling—
The scene abruptly stopped, finally freezing on Karkaroff's ugly face, torn apart by greed and fear, showing a sycophantic smile at the empty mirror.
Dead silence.
True, suffocating dead silence enveloped the entire Inquisition.
Everyone who saw this scene felt a chill rush from the soles of their feet straight to the top of their heads—even Fudge forgot to wipe his sweat, his chubby face painted with a layer of whitewash, and Senator Martha instinctively covered her mouth on the jury seat, while the old wizard beside her shook his head, muttering, "Merlin... he's trading with the devil..."
Dumbledore gently stroked the handrail with his fingers, his gaze moved from the scene in the basin back to William in the plaintiff's seat.
His gaze was more scrutinizing, wanting to see through William's calm facade to understand the true purpose of showing this crucial memory.
Because this memory was obviously... fake.
According to the intelligence Dumbledore had, Karkaroff and Helbo had no relations, so why did William show a completely false memory? However, if the person in the mirror was switched to Voldemort, it would fit reality perfectly—
Meanwhile, sitting in the crowd, Harry was completely stunned.
Beside him, Ron's mouth was open wide enough to fit a Bird Snake Egg—both of them felt their blood rushing to their faces, anger mixed with fear rolling over. Damn Karkaroff! He actually used, sacrificed his student so maliciously! Krum was an undercover the whole time?
Why was he never exposed?
After the shock, Harry suddenly found himself frowning, from this he felt a mysterious sense of disconnection. Harry couldn't help but look at William's back once more, that figure suddenly seemed a little strange in his eyes, like a mist slowly enclosing...
"No—!"
A piercing scream suddenly sounded, drawing everyone's attention back.
"It's fake! That's fake! It's tampered memory! Dark Arts! It's definitely Dark Arts!"
Karkaroff suddenly erupted in a scream, breaking free from the Aurors' restraint somehow, appearing mad, with snot and tears covering his whole face, pointing at William and roaring, his voice distorted by extreme fear... even absurdly transformed—
"It's him! It's William Richard! He is the Black Wizard manipulating everything behind the scenes! Helbo is something he invented! He completely ruined Krum! He obviously wants to frame me! Dumbledore! You must see this clearly! Minister Fudge! Heaven's great ancestors..."
"Control."
William's voice sounded in Karkaroff's ear, who was covered in snot and tears, looking extremely disheveled, Karkaroff couldn't help but pause.
He raised his head, finding William hadn't opened his mouth, just continued to look at him calmly.
"You've gone too far, if you still want—"
Karkaroff couldn't answer, but he nodded frantically. At this moment, Fudge, finally, seemed to be shocked by this sudden outburst, raising his hand intending to slap the table, scolding, ordering Aurors to hold the person down to maintain order in the scene.
But William was a step faster than him.
"Silence, Mr. Karkaroff."
William's voice remained calm. This time he spoke, the boy merely raised his left hand slightly, five fingers loosely aimed in Karkaroff's direction.
There was no flash of light, no incantation uttered.
The still wildly struggling and screaming Karkaroff suddenly fell silent, as if an invisible giant hand had gripped the throat of a chicken —
The man's eyes bulged out in terror, his mouth opened and closed in vain, his body began to twitch and tremble violently, but no sound could be made, the intangible pressure of magic seemed to become tangible, pressing the man firmly back into the chair.
The two Aurors attempting to restrain Karkaroff again were also unobtrusively pushed back half a step by the resilient force, staring in astonishment at Karkaroff, who was instantly silenced and could not move at all.
This maneuver was more intimidating than any evil curse, rendering the courtroom utterly silent.
William no longer looked at the seemingly completely broken Karkaroff. His gaze swept once more over the pin-drop silent room and finally returned to the judge's seat, his tone as calm as if he were recounting what he had for breakfast —
"Now, as you all can see, Mr. Karkaroff not only betrayed 'his once-loyal master,' but also, for the illusory lure of immortality, willingly sent the students he was supposed to protect into the vile trap of Helbo, becoming pawns in achieving some dark purposes."
William's calm voice made everyone subconsciously stand up, as if they all realized something.
"As for what Viktor Krum experienced, it was clearly not an ordinary curse, but deeper soul corruption, which is why he remains incoherent to this day."
Saying this, William pointed to the Meditation Basin, "The Ministry of Magic has already verified the authenticity of this memory, and it is enough to constitute a grave crime against Karkaroff for colluding with the dangerous fugitive black wizard 'the vile Helbo', endangering the safety of the Wizarding World, and... conspiracy to murder several underage wizards."
"Thus, I pronounce —"
A small gavel appeared in William's hand, and he struck it crisply on the block, "Sentencing the former headmaster of Durmstrang, Igor Karkaroff..." under the tense watch of everyone, William gently declared, "to life imprisonment in Azkaban."
At this moment, William seemed to hold dominion over the entire room, even Fudge and Dumbledore were completely overlooked, and everyone began to applaud —
The one clapping the hardest was Durmstrang's deputy headmaster, who had come with Karkaroff — obviously, even just three minutes ago, he was in the noisy crowd trying to "speak loyally" for Karkaroff, though... that speech sounded more like adding insult to injury.
"Yes! Yes!"
Fudge at that moment seemed to awaken from a dream, slapping the table forcefully, his voice high-pitched and thin due to nervousness —
"Overwhelming evidence! Terrifying revelations! Members of the Wizengamot! Igor Karkaroff is utterly unforgivable! For the reputation of Durmstrang, and indeed for the safety of the entire Magic World, I wholeheartedly endorse Mr. William Richard's judgment!"
He took a deep breath, mimicking William's nonchalance, "Immediately place Igor Karkaroff in the highest security ward of Azkaban! Life imprisonment!"
This time, opposition on the judge's bench completely vanished, and the Aurors moved forward without hesitation; this time, their actions were accompanied by a united fury, crudely lifting the subdued, hopeless, and limp like a ragdoll Karkaroff from his chair.
Good acting.
Watching Karkaroff in shackles, vigilantly escorted away from the judge's bench by a group of Aurors, William nodded.
No wonder he was once one of the weathered Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban — this group is really one survivor after another; unfortunately, such turncoats cannot be heavily relied upon.
As Karkaroff's figure vanished beyond the doorway, everyone inside the Wizengamot subtly shifted their focus once more.
From the defeated Karkaroff back to the composed young man who orchestrated this episode.
William Richard.
He had just "confessed" but effortlessly turned the tables in a short time, sending one of his accusers into the deepest prison. What would he do next?
"Well, the disruptive pest has left."
William lightly exhaled, raised a hand to brush the dust off his shoulder, "Now, we can properly discuss... the first case that was prematurely halted due to certain reasons, Mr. Minister."
He smiled slightly, his gaze precisely fixed on Fudge's flushed face.
"About my case."
Life is like a play, onwards it must go —