"At least it looks good!"

Clark looked at the tomato bolognese pasta and nodded in satisfaction.

The sticky red bolognese sauce is sprinkled with a layer of grated Parmesan cheese and garnished with a few basil leaves.

Rolling the pâté and pasta together with a fork and serving it in your mouth, the strong sweet and sour flavor unique to the Italian San Mazzano tomato instantly explodes in the mouth, completely opening the appetite of diners, making you want to inhale it stormy.

At the same time, the aroma of burnt beef and buttery aroma are also permeated between the lips and teeth. In addition to the main flavor, there are also slight sweetness of vegetables such as onions, carrots and celery.

Combined with the special aroma of cheese and black pepper, as well as the hint of cured meat in the crushed European sausage, the combination of various ingredients creates a complex and balanced unique flavor of this plate of pasta.

In the face of food, even Clark, who has always maintained an aristocratic posture, has completely let go of his shackles.

He loosened the buttoned neckline, rolled up his sleeves, and with a twist of his fork, he wrapped the firm pasta in a full sauce and delivered it to his mouth.

If you get tired of it, the cafeteria also has free lemon tea and coffee to choose from.

In the middle of the meal, the sound of the staff of the Ministry of Magic talking about their work could be heard from time to time in the seat next to him.

"You don't know, the cat we caught today can breathe fire......"

"Hey, what are you, we got a report today of a backflow of sewage from a public toilet at Wimbledon.

Hell, you don't know, Muggles flush the toilet and the dirt doesn't just go away - hey, anyway, when we rush over, tsk, that scene—"

"That's enough, we're still eating......"

The well-fed and well-fed Clark sat for a moment, and only when the trial was approaching did Roger McMillan get up and take Clark to the courtroom.

The place where Sirius and Peter were judged was on the tenth basement level of the Ministry of Magic.

"The tenth courtroom hasn't been used for years," Rogge took Clark up the elevator again, "if it weren't for the urgency of this case, the other courtrooms would have already been booked, and this one wouldn't have been chosen to try Sirius and Peter's case." ”

The elevator descended quickly, and since there were only two passengers, it quickly reached its destination.

"Ninth Floor, Department of Mysteries." A cold woman's voice suddenly appeared, and after speaking, it fell silent.

The door of the elevator crept open, revealing an extremely dark hallway in front of Clarke, completely different from the brightly lit corridors above, even if empty.

The walls on both sides were empty, with neither doors nor windows, except for a simple black door at the end of the hallway.

Just when Clark thought the door was the end of his trip, Roger McMillan reached to the left, and realized that there was a gap leading to a staircase.

"Mr. Prewitt, please watch your step," said Roger McMillan, stepping down two steps, "not even the elevator can go down so deep...... If not for the lack of other options......"

They descended to the bottom of the stairs and walked down a corridor.

The place was nothing short of the hallways that led to the Potions classrooms at Hogwarts: the rough stone walls, the green rusty bronze brackets were filled with torches and a dim glow.

The heavy wooden doors that pass along the way are inlaid with heavy iron latches and thick keyholes.

In front of an eerie black door with a large iron lock, Rogge stopped.

"Tenth courtroom...... I think...... We're almost there...... That's right, this is it. ”

Roger McMillan glanced back at Clark, "Mr. Prewitt, are you sure you want to go in?" In fact, the trial of a case is a very boring thing, and you don't have to go into it at all. ”

Although he knew that this Mr. Puwitt had a high status, in his eyes, Clark was still just a child, no matter how good he was.

In such a gloomy place, witnessing the games of politicians, watching the most serious court trials, and perhaps the most horrific punishments, can he accept it?

As a [Psychic Warlock], Clark immediately sensed what Rogge was thinking, and he also had a faint affection for this Ministry of Magic employee, at least this guy is still a good person.

"Thank you, but just as you have your job, I have my responsibility, so open the door, Mr. McMillan."

Roger McMillan was speechless, so he had to twist the heavy iron handle on the door and gently push the door open, "That'...... Please come in, Mr. Prewitt, and I won't go in with you. ”

Clark walked into the courtroom, and it was suddenly dark before his eyes, and it took a while for his vision to become clear again, and the light in this courtroom was even darker than the hallway outside.

He looked around in the dim and eerie light, and saw that it was more like a dungeon than a courtroom.

The surrounding walls, along with the floor and ceiling, are made of large blocks of black stone, the color of which is so deep that it seems to absorb the surrounding light at all times.

Clark recognized it at a glance, the stones on the walls were all fine obsidian.

This naturally occurring glazed gemstone has the effect of warding off evil spirits in Muggles' cognition, avoiding the interference of negative energy, and can also remove unpleasant musty smells and bad weather, and is generally worn as a muggle amulet.

Unbeknownst to Muggles, obsidian was often used in handcuffs, chains, cages, and even prison cells due to its ability to absorb dark magic.

Because of this characteristic, although the entire courtroom is dim, it does not have the cold atmosphere that prison law enforcement has peculiar, but it is like an ordinary room.

Of course, the chair in the center of the room wrapped around the obsidian forbidden chains told Clark that he wasn't in the wrong place.

"Ah, it's our little Clark, come on, come here."

The heavy door closed behind Clark, and Fudge's affectionate voice echoed through the courtroom.

Clark looked up at the sound and saw that around the inner walls of the room, rows of benches were gradually rising, and in the middle of the tallest and frontmost row of benches, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was sitting.

To his left is Amelia Susan Bones, Director of Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic, and on his right is Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Deputy Minister of Magic.

In addition to them, there were three or five staff members of the Ministry of Magic sitting on the bench below.

The clerks were surprised to see the usually high-minded minister treat an underage child so warmly, and watched Clark whisper.

Clark heard Fudge's greeting and walked up to his side in a few steps.

Umbridge was very eye-catching and took the initiative to give up his place.

To be honest, this guy is really a bit capable, no wonder he was able to climb to the position of senior deputy minister of the Ministry of Magic as a woman, without the support of his family.

Just because of this vision and cheekiness, Clark has to bow down.

However, he still knew in his heart that if he really sat down, although he would be tolerated by others because of his identity as a child, he would still overstep it after all.

So he waved his hand, politely rejected the other party's kindness, and sat down next to Director Amelia.

"Haven't you all arrived, Minister?" Clarke, who was seated, asked.

"Well, it looks like we're too early," Fudge shrugged, "but that's fine, it's always better to be early than late." ”

Just as Clark pondered the meaning of Fudge's words, the heavy door opened again, and the sound of chaotic footsteps was heard.

At least sixty or seventy people, all black, walked slowly into the courtroom as if they had made an appointment a long time ago.

Among them, in addition to a few Aurors in black robes, there were more than fifty wizards wearing fuchsia robes with a delicate silver "W" embroidered on their left chest.

Clark knew that the wizards in fuchsia robes were members of the Wizengamot.

It is a wizarding organization that predates the establishment of the Ministry of Magic and now exists as a combination of a court and a council, also known as the "Supreme Wizards' Court", or "Wizarding Council".

The entire Wizengamot is made up of about fifty wizarding members, all of whom are well-known figures in the British wizarding world, and the highest prefect of them is known as the chief magician of the Wizengamot.

And now the chief wizard of the British wizarding world, the Wizengamot, is the headmaster of Hogwarts - Professor Dumbledore.

Not only did Clark see him in the crowd, but he also saw Harry following him.

Professor Dumbledore had apparently spotted Clark as well, and the old Headmaster's eyes flashed behind the crescent-shaped lenses, giving him a brief, but encouraging, smile.

In addition to these people, Clark also saw Barty Crouch, whom he had just met, and he was the last one to come in, with a blank face and a cold look in his eyes, and he seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Very well," said Fudge, "the people are here, let's get started, are you ready?" ”

This last sentence was shouted at the other end of the bench.

"Yes, sir."

Clark followed the sound and saw a wizard sitting at the far end of the bench in front of him, his eyes hidden behind glasses staring intently at the parchment in front of him, a quill in his hand, as if ready to write something down.

"The trial of May 28," said Fudge in a loud voice, as the wizard busily began to take notes, "retrial of the case of Sirius Black, the Death Eater, who betrayed the Potters and killed Peter Pettigrew thirteen years ago. ”

Fudge looked around and continued calmly and forcefully.

"Interrogators: Connelly Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Director of the Division of Magical Law Enforcement; Senior Deputy Secretary Dolores Jane Umbridge—"

"Witnesses for the Defence: Severus Snape; Clark William Puwit; Harry Potter. ”

Clark saw a gloomy Professor Snape walk in from a corner, and Harry walked up to him very reservedly.

After the two of them were seated, Fudge ordered the Aurors to bring Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew into the chamber as well.

There was a dull sound of footsteps, and the door to the corner of the dungeon opened, revealing four men - Black, Peter, and two Aurors.

"Uh-hu......h," Fudge groaned, stretched out his wand, and shook it slightly, and a chair of the same style as the center of the chamber appeared.

The Aurors thrust Blake and Peter into their chairs, and the obsidian forbidden chains snapped up with a menacing clang, binding them tightly.

"Okay, now the trial begins," Fudge said as he rummaged through the pile of papers in front of him, and finally pulled out a piece of parchment from it, took a deep breath, and read it aloud, "accusing the defendant of the following crimes:

"The defendant, Sirius Black, is accused of leaking information about the Potters to the Dark Lord on October 31, 1981, resulting in the deaths of the Potters at their home in the High Jacket Valley.

And on November 1, 1981, on a Muggle street, he brutally murdered Peter Pettigrew, along with a dozen Muggles present.

This was in violation of Section 5 of the English Wizarding Regulation Act of 1833 and Article 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards Secrecy Act of 1689. ”

When he finished, there was silence on the field.

Suddenly, a voice said abruptly, "Sirius Black." ”

Clark turned his head and saw Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench next to him.

He looked very serious, and said solemnly: "You have been imprisoned in Azkaban for thirteen years, and you have not thought of complaining. And now, you're telling us that you're innocent and that Peter Pettigrew isn't dead? ”

"Yes, you didn't give me a chance to complain in the first place, and just threw me into Azkaban."

Sirius gave Crouch a contemptuous look.

"But also, people don't want to believe that the heir of a family that often produces dark wizards will be a good person.

People prefer to believe that I, Blake, am actually a heinous bad person.

People especially want to believe that all the good things I do are just in disguise, that I should be a traitor, an undercover agent. ”

Sirius shook his head sadly when he said this, and with his lonely figure, people couldn't help but start to pity him.

"As for Peter Pettigrew, if your eyes were still there, you should be able to see the one sitting next to me, wouldn't you?"

Hearing Sirius's sarcastic words, the members of the Wizengamot, dressed in fuchsia robes on the podium, couldn't help but turn their heads to each other.

Crouch's lips turned pale and pursed tightly, but he couldn't say a word.

It wasn't until Fudge spoke again that the rostrum fell silent.

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