This Hogwarts is not normal

Chapter 1118 Courtroom

A not particularly clever provocation successfully stirred the wizards' emotions.

They sincerely wanted to find the bitter candy with their own hands to prove that they were not the cowards that Vincent described them as.

No one said anything, and they spontaneously gathered around after the elevator door closed.

The hearing is about to begin, and the bitter candy is right in front of us. Anyone who has a little bit of ambition will not miss this opportunity.

The Ministry of Magic's elevator cannot reach the Tenth Courtroom on the tenth underground floor, and it eventually stops at the Department of Mysteries on the ninth floor.

The corridors here were very dim, with only a few torches on the walls providing light.

Wales led Vincent and Hermione to a gap on the left, where the passage was even narrower and darker.

The corridor leading to the courtroom was made of rough stones. The light from the torches could not illuminate the surroundings well, and the dim environment gave people an eerie feeling.

This was not Vincent's first time here, but he had always been here as a witness.

There were already several people standing in front of the heavy wooden door at the end. They were Arthur and his companions who had arrived there first using the portkey.

Everyone remained silent and watched Wales turn the iron handle on the door.

"Wayne, come in with me."

Vincent let go of Hermione's little hand and looked at everyone confidently, "See you later."

The tenth courtroom was pitch black inside. The walls were made of black stone, and the light from the torches was even dimmer and more eerie than that of the corridor outside.

There are two chairs in the center of the most conspicuous room, with several iron chains hanging on the armrests of the chairs.

Vincent walked steadily towards the chair on the left, not looking like someone who was coming to be tried.

When he sat on the chair, the iron chains on both sides of the armrests began to shake wildly, "clang clang clang", as if trying to tie him up tightly.

Vincent looked at the chain with interest, as if expecting something to happen.

It was not until the chain stopped shaking that he looked up in disappointment.

Want to scare him? No point.

On either side of him were rows of empty benches that gradually rose higher, and a group of people were sitting on the highest benches in front of him.

They were dressed in purple robes and there were less than 40 of them.

Vincent crossed his legs, leaned lazily on the back of his chair, and stared at the man sitting in the middle of the front row with a slightly indifferent look.

Fudge is quite something. There are 50 people in the Wizengamot but only 37 of them showed up. Not counting Dumbledore, the remaining 12 might not be able to arrive on time.

The Wizengamot members all had serious expressions. Some were observing Vincent's every move, while others were whispering.

After waiting in boredom for less than two minutes, Dawlish, who was acting as a temporary guard, suddenly came in.

He came up to Fudge and whispered a few words. From Fudge's gloomy face, it was not difficult to guess that the wizards in the hall had come.

There are reporters, anchors, and people just joining in the fun. It's unrealistic to stop them.

Vincent's mouth curled up slightly. No matter how clever the plan was, the key was to be effective.

The Ministry of Magic has always claimed that this was a fair and impartial hearing, so why not make it public?

"I understand." Fudge glanced at Vincent with resentment, "Let them all come in."

Dawlish quickly left the Tenth Courtroom, and not long after, Hermione and the others came in.

Also traveling with them were some well-known wizards in the British wizarding world, including old Shafik and his family, the Malfoy family, Snape, and even Madam Zabini.

This beautiful black widow is so narrow-minded that she is still thinking about Vincent after so many years.

As soon as they sat down in the gallery, Dawlish led the wizards from the entrance hall back.

Vincent recognized Rita, who was wrapped tightly and was fiddling with the butterfly-shaped brooch on her chest inconspicuously.

Not only her, many people are secretly tinkering with something.

What else can reporters and anchors do secretly? They are probably either contacting newspapers or broadcasting live.

Time passed little by little, and finally it was 8 o'clock in the evening.

The chair on the right side of the center of the Tenth Courtroom was still empty. Dumbledore was late.

The conversations of the Wizengamot members were getting louder and louder, and Fudge, who was in the middle of the front row, was obviously unhappy.

"Where's Dumbledore?"

"Are you too scared to come?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!"

There was a lot of discussion in the audience, which made Fudge's face even uglier.

Just when his patience was about to run out, the door of the tenth courtroom was opened again.

Under the dim light, one can only barely see the white figure in the front.

"Sorry, I'm late." It was Dumbledore, followed by several purple figures.

Griselda Marchbank, director of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, legal expert Tiberius Ogden, and Ephias Doge, a magical historian and former substitute professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, are all members of the Wizengamot who have a good relationship with Dumbledore.

Vincent studied Fudge's expression with interest.

Everyone was angry and helpless, but old man Deng did not disappoint everyone.

Vincent was originally wondering why Marchbank and Ogden, two elders of the Wizengamot, were not present. It turned out that it was because of a trick played by Fudge.

Dumbledore smiled as he sat on the chair on the center right. He paid no attention to the clanking chains and greeted Vincent next to him cordially.

"Good evening, child. Have you had dinner yet?"

Vincent also ignored those sharp gazes and said, "I have eaten, professor. Thank you for your concern."

He noticed that Dumbledore's left hand, which was burned by Voldemort, was wearing a black dragon-skin glove. "Professor, your hand..."

Dumbledore raised his left hand and moved it slightly. "It's okay. Tom seems to think that permanent physical pain can weaken my strength."

Vincent subconsciously reached out and touched the wound on his neck caused by the werewolf.

Voldemort's dark magic is definitely much more powerful than a werewolf's claws. Dumbledore has defeated countless wizards with his willpower alone.

"Professor, my dessert for dinner is walnut cake."

"Walnut cake... I haven't had it in a long time. I really like the crispy texture of the dried dates and chopped walnuts."

"I see. Next time I go to a family restaurant, I'll bring one for you."

Vincent and Dumbledore chatted as if no one was around, which stimulated Fudge who was sitting opposite them so much that his hands were shaking violently.

This is a hearing, not a formal trial.

The two chairs in the center of the Tenth Courtroom are the defendant's seats. Although the two people sitting on them are parties to the hearing and not real criminals, this is a sacred and solemn court after all.

"Both defendants, please keep quiet!" Fudge stopped shaking his hands. "This hearing has been delayed for quite some time. Let's get started."

It is now 8:16 pm, and a lot of time has indeed been wasted.

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