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Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.

Although the bizarre silver instruments in the room were still emitting smoke, and the warm, bright fireplace was still radiating heat, the area within two or three meters of Albus Dumbledore was filled with a suffocating silence.

Dumbledore leaned down, looking at Peter Pettigrew, who was curled up on the floor, his face unusually terrifying.

In Erina's memory, such a situation seemed to have occurred only once before, when she mortgaged the school, and she faintly saw it on Dumbledore's face, and it quickly disappeared with the dazzling gold and her coma.

Gone was the usual kind smile, the eyes behind the spectacles lacked their cheerful serenity, and every wrinkle on that aged face carried a chilling anger, as well as a deep sense of heartache and guilt.

Standing beside Dumbledore, Erina and Grindelwald could clearly feel a power radiating from Dumbledore, as if he were burning and heating up, causing a sense of awe in their hearts.

"I once imagined you suddenly resurrecting one day and appearing before everyone... but not, definitely not like this."

Dumbledore's lips trembled slightly, his wand held high, as if ready to strike at any moment.

"Ten years ago, I personally sent Black to Azkaban, and applied to the Ministry of Magic for the Order of Merlin on your behalf. I was eager to make up for my mistakes, wondering if things might have turned out differently if I had chosen a different path back then."

"D-Dumbledore, Professor, Headmaster, I'm scared... I sent Voldemort's most capable lieutenant to Azkaban... I'm afraid of the ubiquitous Death Eaters' revenge... you have to believe me... you must..."

"So... you turned into a rat, hiding beside the Weasley boy, hiding for so many years? In Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Under my very nose? And, beside Harry Potter?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath, his gaze like a knife piercing into Peter Pettigrew's eyes, and said with a contemptuous tone that Erina had never heard before, his voice filled with deep sarcasm.

"At this point, you still dare to lie to me? Even Voldemort wouldn't dare to do that!"

"The Dark Lord... Professor... I was never as brave as James and them, I was caught by him... the one whose name must not be spoken forced me... he is the most terrible person, a devil! He will kill me..."

Hearing Voldemort's name, Peter Pettigrew shrank violently, as if Dumbledore had whipped him hard, his whole being seeming to turn into a rat, shivering and huddling into a ball on the floor.

Peter Pettigrew burst into tears, like a large baby with thinning hair curled up on the floor, streaks of greyish-black marks smearing the clean, beautiful mahogany floor with the man's snot, tears, and stains from his body.

"Then, who was the Secret-Keeper for James and Lily? And when did you start to serve Voldemort?"

Dumbledore's eyes grew colder, his voice suppressing an extremely terrifying rage.

During that time, in the fight against Voldemort, what caused the most grievous losses to the Order of the Phoenix was never Voldemort's power, but the exposure of one member's location after another. The Death Eaters and Voldemort were always able to accurately target their weakest points and launch attacks before Dumbledore arrived, eliminating one rebel after another.

If it hadn't been for Severus Snape's later betrayal, Dumbledore wouldn't even have had the capital to fight back, and could only keep running back and forth, leading the few remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix in an attempt to resist the increasingly rampant Voldemort.

In the last period of time, an atmosphere of suspicion had already permeated the Order of the Phoenix. People suspected each other, were wary of each other—naturally, Remus Lupin, a werewolf, and Sirius Black, a descendant of the Black family, were the easiest targets for attention.

And everything, along with the explosion that Sirius Black caused on a Muggle street, finally had a final answer. All the survivors rushed to denounce this mad Death Eater, this Dark Lord follower whose mind was clouded by pure-blood ideology, and mourned the tragedy that befell the Potter couple, in order to prove that their stance was correct.

However, Dumbledore never imagined... until the very end, he was unable to find the real traitor.

"That's enough, Albus. This is too ugly..."

After glancing at the wizard curled up on the ground, Grindelwald casually waved his wand.

Peter Pettigrew's wrists, neck, and knees seemed to be tied with invisible ropes, and he was lifted into the air, his feet flailing a few inches off the ground, like a marionette being held by the scruff of its neck.

Grindelwald raised his eyebrows slightly in disgust and nodded towards Dumbledore.

"If you have any questions, I suggest you use Legilimency or Veritaserum directly... Time is limited, and we still have to process him afterwards, you know—this gentleman has quite a few scripts to recite, it's very time-consuming."

"No need, I already have the answer."

Dumbledore shook his head, looking at Peter Pettigrew curled up on the ground with extreme revulsion.

Legilimency is not an omnipotent mind-reading technique, but with the right questions, even if Peter Pettigrew didn't reveal too much, Dumbledore had already seen the answer from the memories that Peter unconsciously surfaced.

"Just follow the previous plan, this time, I have no objections. How much time do you need?"

"Two to three hours, it will be faster if you are willing to help, Albus."

Grindelwald patted the pink purse in his arms and grinned. "Of course, I know you always disdain doing such things, so it's no problem for me to solve this dirty work—we are very experienced."

"This time, let's do it together, try not to let anyone see through the flaws."

Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds, then slowly shook his head and walked towards Peter Pettigrew with his wand raised.

"No, Professor Dumbledore, you can't use lynch law! So many wizards—when the Dark Lord was gaining power everywhere—everyone feared him, he is the most evil Dark Lord in the world—the Ministry of Magic—I need a trial by the Ministry of Magic—"

"The most evil, the most terrible Dark Lord, Voldemort?"

A comical expression appeared on Grindelwald's face, and he subconsciously turned to look at the girl beside him, just in time to meet Erina's gaze. The same strange brilliance flashed in the eyes of the two "righteous crusaders".

It seems that Mr. Peter doesn't understand that some things are more terrible than death.

"Of course, you will eventually be handed over to the Ministry of Magic. But..."

Dumbledore coldly straightened his body and casually took the stack of papers that Grindelwald handed him, glancing through them roughly.

"The premise is that after you recall all your criminal acts over the years, you will be transferred to the Wizarding Court—so let's begin? Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart, I would like to talk to you separately about some things concerning you later."

In the space between Dumbledore's words, one wizard after another emerged from the light pink ladies purse that Grindelwald had placed aside, curiously sizing up the surrounding environment and the two old wizards standing in the center of the room.

And, of course, the silver-haired little witch sitting on the sofa in the corner, gently stroking the phoenix.

As participants deeply involved in this vast plan involving the non-magical world, the magical world, spanning almost half the globe, and influencing more than 70% of the economic trends of the two worlds, this group of wizards are well aware—all of this is being driven behind the scenes by the three wizards in this room, or rather, the three Dark Lords.

The expression of excitement on the face of the young wizard with a head of golden wavy hair hadn't had time to dissipate when he heard Dumbledore's gentle voice not far away. His expression stiffened slightly, and he glanced around at the "colleagues" with various expressions, a bitter smile on his lips, and nodded dejectedly.

According to the previous agreement, he would be completely free and clear of any record after the aerospace carrier temporarily docked in the Ukrainian port was delivered. Therefore, during this time, he still had to act as a chosen one, taking action.

However, as time went on, Lockhart became increasingly aware...

Perhaps this commission will never end—

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Goo!~

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