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Professor McGonagall's prediction was spot-on. Although the notice Anthony received said nine o'clock, the Ministry people didn't arrive at the school until after ten.
Three people came in total. The investigation team leader was like every Ministry official in Anthony's memory—only capable of hearing what he wanted to hear. There was also an Auror, whom Anthony recognized as the wizard who'd escorted him to Azkaban. This Auror kept his hand on his wand at all times—Anthony hesitated, wanting to remind him that the best way to deal with a necromancer was still a sneak attack. Accompanying them was also a probationary newcomer, responsible for watching a magical quill record their conversation.
Besides these, he also saw an unexpected person: Ollivander.
"Mr. Ollivander will help the Ministry examine your wand," Professor McGonagall explained. "But he's not participating in the investigation."
Anthony readily handed his wand to Ollivander. He fully trusted Ollivander's expertise with wands. No matter how much the Ministry hoped he would grip the wand and immediately accuse Anthony of having cast a Troll Summoning Charm—whatever charm that was—Ollivander wouldn't lie.
The wandmaker stroked his wand and frowned.
"It's not very happy," Ollivander said, his silvery eyes looking reproachfully at Anthony.
Anthony asked in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"You've neglected it, sir," Ollivander said gently. "It doesn't like the magical path you've chosen, but it's very loyal to you. This makes it melancholy."
Only then did Anthony realize that his spells' diminished power wasn't due to lack of practice, but because his wand was sad. He still remembered that warm, complete feeling when he'd first touched the wand in the shop, and how eagerly it had cooperated with his every practice session. Now it was gradually withering from companion to mere stick.
Anthony asked, "Can it still be remedied?"
"It's not that bad. Coax it more," Ollivander instructed. "It likes you very much. Don't disappoint it."
"I understand." Anthony took back his wand, stroking the silver shaft. When he'd first received his wand, Ollivander had given him the same advice, but he hadn't understood it then.
Ollivander turned to the investigation team watching him expectantly and shook his head. "Although it's become melancholy, his wand core doesn't need replacing yet. Its master hasn't lost himself to the desire for killing."
"Fine," the team leader said with a stiff face. "But the questioning still needs to proceed. He might have just used someone else's wand."
Anthony had wanted to invite the investigation team to his office, but they acted as if he were inviting them to hell.
Finally, with Professor McGonagall's help, they found an empty classroom and locked the door. A few students looked curiously at them as they passed, but all quickly disappeared at the end of the corridor under Professor McGonagall's stern gaze.
"There's lamb chops today," Professor McGonagall said before leaving the classroom. "You won't want to miss them, Professor Anthony."
Anthony laughed.
The team leader transformed a wooden chair into an office chair, leaned back against it, and asked preemptively, "You know perfectly well why we've called you here, don't you?"
"Professor McGonagall told me," Anthony nodded, also pulling over a chair. "You're here to investigate the troll incident, aren't you?" Seeing the Auror and newcomer still standing, he pushed two chairs toward them. "Please sit. Tea?"
"Let's not beat around the bush," the leader said, ignoring his offer. "What were you doing on Halloween?"
"In my office. Never went out," Anthony said. "Cocoa from the kitchens brought me a meal. He can testify."
"Cocoa?"
"Oh, he's a house-elf from the kitchens," the newcomer said cheerfully. "His shepherd's pie is the best of all the elves. We've always thought his magic... Sorry, sir." Her voice grew smaller and smaller, her face flushing belatedly.
The leader sighed, ignoring her. "House-elves can't serve as witnesses."
"Then there are no witnesses," Anthony said. "But let's think from another angle. Even if I really planned to liven up the Halloween feast—which, by the way, I didn't—I wouldn't need to use a troll. You all know I'm a necromancer, right?" The leader's and Auror's expressions were hard to read, but the newcomer's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, wait, someone didn't know? Sorry."
The Auror couldn't help asking, "Didn't you read the materials, Tonks?"
"I did, but I might not have noticed," the newcomer said, waving her hand and knocking the recording quill askew. "Ah, sorry." The magical quill paused for a moment, as if hesitating whether to record this absurd exchange.
Anthony smiled at Tonks. She was adding some fun to this boring interrogation.
"What were you doing in your office?" the leader asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm still technically a Hogwarts professor. That was my office, sir," Anthony said expressionlessly.
He'd learned this from Snape. When Snape discovered he knew nothing about potions (Anthony hadn't even bothered to buy a textbook or cauldron), this was how Snape had looked at him. Anthony interpreted it as "your stupidity exceeds my imagination."
The leader remained unmoved. "I'm asking, what were you doing in your office when everyone else was enjoying the feast in the Great Hall?"
"Studying magic," Anthony said.
The leader pressed on. "What magic? Controlling trolls? Opening Hogwarts' defenses from the inside? Why has your wand become melancholy?"
"Necromancy," he said honestly. Tonks gasped and hiccupped.
"We're watching you, Anthony," the leader said viciously.
A few minutes ago, Anthony had pointed out that Ollivander had already indirectly corroborated that he had nothing to do with the troll. And even if they forcibly took him to Azkaban without any evidence, he could easily escape at any time. Once this fact was laid on the table, it meant this interrogation was basically over.
After all, going any further meant sentencing Anthony to death... whether by beheading or whatever. Even if it didn't trigger a necromantic war, it meant completely breaking with Dumbledore.
If they couldn't find evidence to prove Anthony's crimes (I hate that necromancy doesn't need wands, the leader thought bitterly—they deserved extinction), when Hogwarts was protecting a necromancer, they basically had no way to deal with Anthony.
"Of course, of course," Anthony said obediently. "My door is always open to you. If you're interested in Muggle cooking, you're welcome to attend my class next Thursday morning. Of course, you might need to bypass Hogwarts' defense system. Considering even a troll managed that, I'm sure you can too."
"Are you questioning Hogwarts' defense system?" the leader said sarcastically. "I thought you all firmly believed Hogwarts was the safest place in the world!"
Anthony shook his head. "When a troll appears in a dungeon classroom while you sit across from me—no offense, sir—I know there's no such thing as safety in the wizarding world."
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