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It was ten in the morning, London time.
The sky was the usual Scottish Highlands gray, as if a cloud hung over the magical world.
As the last member of the Wizengamot arrived at Hogwarts, the Quidditch pitch began to transform. In the very center, an iron chair appeared out of thin air, with two iron chains wrapped around the armrests on either side.
Directly in front of the chair, where the Quidditch goalposts should have been, was now a massive semi-circular tribunal constructed of metal and stone, with tiered seating rising upwards, surrounding the chair.
At this moment, more than fifty members of the Wizengamot court, wearing crimson robes with an exquisite silver "" (the English initial of Wizengamot) embroidered on their left breast, were seated on the rows of gradually rising benches, mostly whispering to each other with grim faces.
At the center of the metal and stone tribunal sat the greatest wizard in the magical world, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot—Albus Dumbledore, flanked by the current Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones.
Beyond them, the velvety smooth pitch was crowded with reporters from various well-known and unknown newspapers and magazines in the magical world. Aurors formed a cordon on the outer edge of the crowd, constantly alert for any unexpected events that might disrupt the public trial.
Further out from the Wizengamot members, Ministry Aurors, and media reporters, tens of thousands of wizards from all over the magical world sat in the high stands of the Quidditch pitch, searching for seats and awaiting the start of the public trial.
Many adult wizards had already found their children and were chatting together as families.
Even if their families had suffered terrible economic losses, most adult wizards managed to control their emotions in front of their children, temporarily suppressing their worries and quietly asking about their children's experiences at school.
After magical expansion and transformation, the area around the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch now resembled a tiered seating arrangement like a non-magical football stadium, with all positions offering a clear view of everything happening below.
In fact, if there had been more time, Ailiana had originally planned to try to suspend two magical screens in the air above the stands for real-time broadcasting of everything happening in the trial and defendant's stands below, but Dumbledore and Grindelwald had collectively rejected the idea for reasons such as "flashy," "difficult to implement," and "not very practical."
"Professor Dumbledore, excuse me..." Bones glanced at the empty trial chair, "Where is Peter Pettigrew?"
"He is currently being guarded by Professor Otto Apocalypse, Professor Severus Snape, Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, and others, awaiting the start of the public trial—the entrance was too chaotic for everyone, so it was not appropriate for him to appear too early."
"So, Professor Dumbledore, can we begin?" Cornelius Fudge asked impatiently.
"You are the Minister for Magic, so the decision is yours, Cornelius," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile.
The three wizards on the tribunal exchanged glances, nodded, and simultaneously drew their wands, pointing them at their throats.
"Sonorus!" "Sonorus!" "Sonorus!"
Immediately, the three voices echoed like thunder throughout the entire Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, reverberating in the air, loudly and clearly traveling to every corner of the surrounding stands.
An unprecedented public trial in the British magical world had finally officially begun under the gaze of tens of thousands of wizards.
...
"Ladies and gentlemen... this is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Albus Dumbledore stood up, his voice as gentle as ever, but the familiar kind smile was no longer on the old wizard's face. His expression was one of complete calmness, showing little emotion.
Pausing slightly, Dumbledore's gaze swept across the unfamiliar faces around him and said in a deep voice.
"Ah, yes, I see many familiar faces. I remember you as you were at Hogwarts. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, how I wish I could say, as usual, how glad I am to see everyone return to school... Sadly, as you all know, today is destined not to be a pleasant gathering."
"More than a decade ago, during Voldemort's most powerful period, many wizards chose to join the dark forces as Death Eaters, doing many terrible things with Voldemort... Very terrible things, countless wizarding families were shattered as a result."
As Dumbledore's voice resonated, a cold wind seemed to blow through the entire Quidditch pitch, and many wizards shivered involuntarily. After many years, the shadow behind the name "Voldemort" had still not completely disappeared from the magical world.
Dumbledore gently and powerfully glanced at Cornelius Fudge, who was beside him and seemed about to say something, shook his head almost imperceptibly, then raised his voice slightly and continued.
"However! With the fall of Voldemort, I was pleased to see the Ministry of Magic quickly regain control of the situation, restoring order to the magical world. I, we once believed that all the unpunished, extremely vicious Death Eaters had been captured, and all the stubborn followers of Voldemort had been killed or sent to Azkaban. We could completely put the past behind us and start a new life... But I was wrong."
"In the long struggle, many excellent Aurors and good people paid with their lives, futures, and health. I have always said that we need to learn to forget hatred and pain, and keep looking forward, but these heroes should not be forgotten. For a long time, we only remembered to celebrate our survival, but we forgot their names..."
"In fact, they are the ones who should be here the most at this moment, but they are forever late..."
Dumbledore raised his wand and waved it above his head.
"Benjy Fenwick, Fabian Prewett, Caradoc Dearborn, Gideon Prewett..."
As he spoke, golden names and light golden portraits of male and female wizards emerged from the tip of Dumbledore's wand, floating in the air above the pitch, as if those wizards who had fought on the front lines had returned here.
The entire pitch was silent and solemn. All the wizards instinctively slowed their breathing, quietly watching the names floating in the sky, names they knew or did not know, and the lines of their contributions and sacrifices below each name.
"Brother..."
Mrs. Weasley put her arm around her husband and instinctively covered her mouth, emitting a sob.
Arthur Weasley, who was beside her, had already taken off his glasses and was constantly rubbing his eyes. He knew most of these people, all members of the Order of the Phoenix who had died in the First Wizarding War. He never expected that Dumbledore would still remember them.
Ten years ago, on the night the Dark Lord fell, all the wizards were busy celebrating the victory, and almost no one cared about the names of those who had sacrificed themselves for it. In the long years that followed, all the files were gradually sealed, and even the awarding of medals of honor was carried out quietly in small circles. Almost no one paid attention to the names of these heroes.
The only people remembered were "the Boy Who Lived," Harry Potter, and Albus Dumbledore.
The Weasley boys gathered around their parents, helplessly watching their parents, who had never shown such sad expressions, while looking up at the names in the sky, silently memorizing them. Each name was recorded with their sacrifice below it.
Slowly, the speed at which names appeared in the sky gradually began to slow down.
From several at a time at the beginning to appearing sporadically, but everyone in attendance already knew that it was not because Voldemort had suddenly become kind, but because of the constant sacrifices, the dark forces were gradually beginning to decline.
The wizards silently watched the dates below the names, as if waiting for the dawn to come. Ailiana sighed softly and patted the shoulder of the boy sitting next to her, who was desperately looking up at the sky.
"... Marlene McKinnon, James Potter, Lily Potter..."
Almost instantly, everyone's eyes seemed to focus on the green-eyed, black-haired boy with glasses, but Harry was no longer in the mood to pay attention to people's gazes.
Harry Potter widened his eyes as much as possible, trying not to let the tears in his eyes blur his vision, eagerly looking at his parents' appearance, memorizing every word that appeared below his parents' names, feeling a strong sense of pain and pride in his heart. This was the first time in his life that he had seen his family, although it was somewhat blurred and so far away. If he could have a flying broomstick at this moment...
Just then, Harry heard a sob like a wounded beast coming from beside him.
Harry Potter instinctively turned his head and saw Neville Longbottom, usually the slowest in class, standing by the stands, gripping the railings tightly with both hands, looking up at the names in the sky.
Beside him, a white-haired old witch with dry, claw-like hands was hugging Neville's shoulders, holding him in her arms—Mr. Weasley had just introduced her as Neville's grandmother, Mrs. Longbottom, with whom he had always lived.
However, now was not an easy time for the Longbottoms.
Just when everyone thought everything was about to end, behind the names of the Potter couple, the names and faces of two more young male and female wizards emerged again, flying up to the sky and standing side by side with James Potter and Lily Potter.
"... Alice Longbottom, Frank Longbottom..."
"Some tragedies should not have happened... In fact, there was a clue before that gave me the opportunity to stop all this, and even more tragedies... But, because of arrogance and anger, I made an unforgivable mistake."
Dumbledore looked up at the names and portraits floating in the sky and said with a complex tone.
"If this had been a few days ago, there might have been one more name among them... However, now his position has changed, falling from the sky to the ground. The only lucky thing is that there will no longer be a name rising because of him."
The old wizard slowly moved his gaze, his eyes landing on the trial chair in front of him, bound with iron chains, his expression somewhat terrifying.
"In the presence of the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts, in the presence of all the living and dead wizards, in the presence of the past, present, and future, accept this belated trial—Peter Pettigrew!"
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Chapter 1, I'll post it after I finish writing it～
Tribute to the heroes, the souls of the heroes are immortal, not only in the magical world, but also in the non-magical world, inside and outside the novel, all those who are working hard for the prosperous age of peaceful years. Hang in there, the dawn is coming soon——
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