Harry gasped, he couldn't control himself. The deep dark room he walked into www.biquge.info was so familiar to him that he was terrified. Not only had he seen it before, but he had been here before. This is where he had seen in Dumbledore's meditation basin, where he had witnessed the Lestrange couple being sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban.

The walls were made of black stone, and the light from the torches was dim and eerie. On either side of him were rows of empty benches that were gradually rising, and in front of him, on the highest benches, many black figures appeared. They had been whispering all along, and an ominous silence fell as the heavy door closed behind Harry.

A cold man's voice echoed through the courtroom.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry," Harry said nervously, "I- I didn't know the time had changed. ”

"That's not the fault of the Wizengamot." The voice said, "An owl was sent to inform you this morning." Sit down. ”

Harry lowered his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arm of which was covered with chains on the left and right. He had seen the chains suddenly burst up and tie the man sitting in the middle. His feet walked across the stone floor, echoing loudly. He sat cautiously on the edge of his chair, and the chain rattled menacingly, but it did not bind him. Harry felt dizzy and nauseous, and looked up at the men sitting on the upper bench.

As far as he could see, there were about fifty men, dressed in fuchsia robes with a delicate silver "W" embroidered on the left chest. They all looked down at him, some with stern expressions, others with undisguised curiosity.

In the middle of the row of benches in front of him sat Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. Fudge was a big fat man who often wore a dull yellow-green bowler hat, though he didn't wear it today. Besides, the kind smile he had always had on his face when he used to speak to Harry was gone. To Fudge's left sat a broad, square-chin witch with short gray hair, a pair of monocles, and an intimidating expression on her face. To Fudge's right sat another witch, but she sat too far back on the bench, her face shrouded in shadow.

"Very well," said Fudge, "the defendant has finally arrived, so let's get started." Are you ready? He asked aloud to the other end of the bench.

"Yes, sir." Harry's familiar voice said eagerly. Ron's older brother, Percy, sat at the very edge of the bench in the front row. Harry looked at Percy, expecting him to show an expression of recognition of himself, but there was no expression on his face. Percy's eyes, hidden behind his glasses, were staring intently at the parchment in front of him, a quill in his hand ready to write.

"The trial of August 12," said Fudge in a loud voice, as Percy began to take notes, "in the case of Harry James Potter, who lives at 4 Privet Road in Little Whinging, Surrey, for violating the Reasonable Restraint of Underage Wizards Act and the International Secrecy Act."

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Senior Deputy Secretary Dolores Jane Umbridge. Trial Recorder: Percy Ignatius Weasley—"

"Witness for the Defence: Albus Percival Woolfrick Brian Dumbledore." A calm voice behind Harry said. Harry turned his head sharply, nearly spraining his neck.

Dumbledore strode over calmly, dressed in a black and blue robe, with an extremely serene expression on his face. He walked parallel to Harry, looked up, and looked at Fudge through half-moon-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his hooked nose, his long silver-white beard and hair glistening in the light of the torches. The members of the Wizengamot were all whispering to each other. All eyes were on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others seemed a little frightened, and the two elderly witches sitting in the back row waved in welcome.

As soon as Harry saw Dumbledore, a strong emotion rose in his heart, making him feel grounded and full of hope, just as the Phoenix Fawkes' singing once gave him the feeling. He tried to make eye contact with Dumbledore, but instead of looking at him, Dumbledore continued to look up at Fudge, who was visibly panicked.

"Ah," said Fudge, looking completely unclaimed, "Dumbledore. Yes. So, you-um-um-you received our letter--know that the time and place of the trial had changed? ”

"Looks like I didn't receive it," Dumbledore said in a cheerful tone, "but I made the lucky mistake of arriving at the Ministry of Magic three hours early, so it didn't get in the way. ”

"yes-well--I think we need another chair-I-Weasley, can you-?"

"Don't bother, don't bother." Dumbledore said mildly. He drew his wand and shook it slightly, and a soft burnished chintz armchair appeared next to Harry out of thin air. Dumbledore sat down, his long fingertips butched together, and his eyes looked at Fudge from there, with a polite, interested expression on his face. The members of the Wizengamot are still talking to each other, fidgeting one by one. Later, when Fudge spoke again, they fell silent.

"Yes," Fudge said, moving the papers around in front of him, "all right. Now it's ...... Accusation. Yes. ”

He pulled out a piece of parchment from a pile of papers, took a deep breath, and read it aloud: "Charge the defendant with the following crimes:

"The defendant, who had previously received a written warning from the Ministry of Magic for similar charges, on this occasion, knowing full well that his actions were unlawful, deliberately and knowingly cast a Calling Charm in front of a Muggle in a Muggle settlement at 9:23 p.m. on August 2, in violation of paragraph 3 of the Reasonable Restraint of Underage Wizards Act of 1875 and Article 13 of the International Federation of Wizards' Secrecy Act.

"You're Harry James Potter at 4 Privet Road in Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge asked, glaring at Harry from above the parchment.

"Yes." Harry replied.

"You were officially accused by the Ministry of Magic three years ago for illegal use of magic, didn't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"And you used your magic to conjure a Patronus on the night of August 2nd?" Fudge said.

"Yes," said Harry, "but—"

"You know you're not even seventeen years old and aren't allowed to use magic outside of school?"

"Yes, but—"

"You know you're in a Muggle-dense place?"

"Yes, but—"

"You know exactly there was a Muggle nearby?"

"Yes," Harry said annoyedly, "but I use magic only because we—"

The monocle-wearing witch interrupted him in a loud, deep voice.

"You've conjured a full-fledged Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry, "because—"

"A patronus of the flesh?"

"A-what?" Harry asked.

"Your Patronus has a clear and definite form? I mean, it's not just vapor or smoke? ”

"Yes," Harry felt irritated and a little desperate, "it's a stag, a stag every time. ”

"Every time?" In a loud voice, Ms. Bones asked, "You've conjured a Patronus before?" ”

"Yes," said Harry, "I've been doing this for over a year. ”

"You're fifteen now?"

"Yes, and—"

"You learned it in school?"

"Yes, when I was in third grade, Professor Lupin taught me because—"

"It's remarkable," said Miss Bones, looking at him from above, "that he can conjure a true patronus at his age...... It's truly remarkable. ”

Some of the wizards around her were talking to each other again. Some nodded, while others looked displeased and shook their heads again and again.

"It's not a question of how great magic is," Fudge said in an exasperated voice, "and I actually think that the more great it is, the worse it is, because that kid did it in front of a Muggle!" ”

The displeased wizards muttered in agreement, and Harry nodded pretending to be serious when he saw Percy. He was enraged, so he couldn't help but open his mouth:

"I did it because of the Dementors!" He said loudly, and no one had time to interrupt him again.

He thought that people would talk to each other again, but he didn't expect that there was silence in all directions, and it seemed to be even quieter than just now.

"Dementors?" After a while, Ms. Bones said, her two thick eyebrows raised high, and her monocle seemed to be about to slip down, "What do you mean by that, child?" ”

"I mean, two Dementors popped up in the alley and were coming straight at me and my cousin!"

"Ah," Fudge said again, with an obnoxious sneer coming out of his mouth, as he looked at the Wizengamot members in front of and left as if hoping they would understand the joke too. "yes, yes, I knew we'd hear like that."

"Dementors in Little Huikin?" Ms. Bones said, with a tone of surprise in her voice, "I don't understand—"

"Don't you understand, Amelia?" Still mocking, Fudge said, "Let me explain." He's gone to great lengths to discover that Dementors can be a wonderful excuse, and it's wonderful. Muggles can't see Dementors, do they, kid? Very ingenious, very ingenious...... So there are no witnesses, only your side of the story......"

"I'm not lying!" Harry exclaimed, his voice drowning out the voices of the judgment bench again, "There were two, one at each end of the alley, and everything was so dark and cold, my cousin touched them, desperately trying to escape—"

"Enough, enough!" Fudge said, with a very haughty look on his face, "I'm sorry I interrupted him, I'm sure it's a well-rehearsed lie—"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. The Wizengamot was quiet again.

"Actually, we have a witness who can prove that the Dementors did appear in that alley," he said, "and I mean except Dudley Dursley." ”

Fudge's fat face seemed to suddenly relax, as if someone had let go of the air inside. He stared blankly at Dumbledore below, and after a few moments, he seemed to pick himself up and said, "I'm afraid we don't have time to listen to this nonsense anymore, Dumbledore, I want to deal with this quickly-"

"I may not remember accurately," said Dumbledore kindly, "but I believe that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the defendant has the right to have witnesses testify on his behalf, right?" Isn't that the policy of the Division of Magical Law Enforcement, Ms. Bones? He asked the monocle-wearing witch.

"Yes," Ms. Bones said, "it is. ”

"Oh, good, good," Fudge said angrily, "where is this man?" ”

"I brought her here," said Dumbledore, "and she's right outside the door." Am I—"

"No—Weasley, you go." Fudge said rudely to Percy. Percy immediately stood up and ran down the stone steps from the judge's seat, hurriing past Dumbledore and Harry, without looking at them.

Moments later, Percy returned, followed by Mrs. Fig. She looked scared, and looked more eccentric than usual. Harry wished she had thought of replacing her thick slippers.

Dumbledore stood up, gave up his chair to Mrs. Feige, and conjured one for himself.

"Full name?" Fudge asked aloud as Mrs. Feige sat down on the edge of her chair tremblingly.

"Arabella Dorion Feige." Mrs. Feige said in a slightly trembling voice.

"Who the hell are you?" Fudge asked in an impatient, haughty voice.

"I'm a resident of Little Whinging, and I live right next to Harry Potter's house." Mrs. Figg said.

"For our records, there are no wizards other than Harry Potter who live in Little Whine." Ms. Bones immediately said, "That area has been under close surveillance because ...... Because something has happened before. ”

"I'm a squib," said Mrs. Figg, "so you won't register my name, will you?" ”

"Squib, huh?" Fudge looked at her suspiciously, and said, "We'll verify." Tell my assistant Weasley about your parents later. By the way, can Squibs see Dementors? He added, and looked left and right at the people on the bench.

"Yes, we can see it!" Mrs. Figg said angrily.

Fudge looked at her again and raised his eyebrows. "Very well," he said coldly, "what do you mean?" ”

"On the evening of August 2nd, about nine o'clock, I went out to the corner shop at the corner of Wisteria Road to buy cat food," Mrs. Feige said at once as quickly as if she had memorized everything she had to say, "and then I heard a commotion in the alley between Magnolia Crescent Street and Wisteria Road. I walked to the alley and saw the Dementors running—"

"Run?" Ms. Bones sternly said, "Dementors don't run, they just slide." ”

"That's what I mean," said Mrs. Figg quickly, her shriveled face flushed, "sliding down the alley and pounced on what looked like two boys." ”

"What do they look like?" Ms. Bones said, her eyes narrowed, and the edges of her monocle sank into the flesh.

"Oh, one is big, the other is skinny—"

"No, no," said Miss Bones impatiently, "Dementors...... Describe what they look like. ”

"Oh," said Mrs. Feig, now that the flush spread to her neck, "they are huge. Large, wearing a cape. ”

Harry felt his heart sink terribly. Whatever Mrs. Feige said, it seemed to him that she had only seen pictures of Dementors at best, and they did not convey the true nature of those creatures: their eerie and horrific appearance as they hovered and moved a few inches above the ground; the stench of decay they emitted; And the horrible creaking sound they make as they devour the air around them......

On the second row of benches, a short, stocky male wizard with a large black beard leaned into the ear of a nearby female wizard with curly hair. The sorceress sneered and nodded.

"Big, cloaked," Ms. Bones repeated coldly—Fudge snorted sarcastically, "I see." Anything else? ”

"Yes," said Mrs. Fig, "I feel them. Everything was getting cold, and don't forget that it was a very hot summer night. And then I thought...... It seems that all happiness has disappeared from the world...... I remembered...... Terrible thing......"

Her voice trembled, and she faded out of her voice.

Ms. Bones' eyes widened slightly. Harry could see the red mark on the spot under her brow where the lens had just sunk in.

"What did the Dementors do?" She asked, and a glimmer of hope rose in Harry's heart.

"They pounced on the two boys," said Mrs. Feige, whose voice was now more powerful and confident, and the blush on her face receded. One boy fell, and the other backed away as he tried to fight off the Dementors. This is Harry. He tried twice, and all he got was silver smoke. On the third attempt, he conjured a Patronus. The Patronus rushed over and knocked down the first Dementor, and then it mustered up the courage to drive the second Dementor away from Cousin Harry's side. That's what it is...... That's what happened then. Mrs. Figg finished, her voice a little weak.

Mrs. Bones looked silently at Mrs. Feige. Fudge didn't look at her, just fiddling with his papers. Finally, he raised his eyes and said a little aggressively, "That's what you see, isn't it?" ”

"It's what happened." Mrs. Figg said it again.

"Very well," said Fudge, "you can go." ”

Mrs. Feige looked timidly at Fudge and then at Dumbledore, then stood up and shuffled towards the door. Harry heard the door slam shut behind her.

"This witness is not very convincing." Fudge said arrogantly.

"Oh, I don't think so," Ms. Bones said in her booming voice, "she portrays the power of the Dementors very accurately. I can't imagine why she would say that if they weren't there. ”

"But the Dementor ran into a Muggle housing area and happened to meet a wizard?" "It's a very small possibility," Fudge said contemptuously, "and even Bagman wouldn't bet it—"

"Oh, I don't think any of us would believe that the Dementors were there by coincidence." Dumbledore said softly.

The witch sitting to Fudge's right, face shrouded in shadow, moved slightly, but the others were motionless, (to be continued.) )