Chapter 672 Karkaroff’s Trial (1)

Dumbledore's office shook violently - Harry was thrown forward and fell headlong into the contents of the basin.

But his head did not touch the pelvic floor. He fell into something dark and cold. He kept sinking, as if he was being sucked into a black vortex.

Suddenly, Harry found himself sitting on a stool that was higher than the others in that room.

He looked at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see a circular window from which he had just looked down.

But there was nothing there, just black, hard stone. Harry gasped desperately and looked around him.

Not a single witch or wizard in the room (there were at least two hundred) was looking at him.

None of them seemed to notice that a fourteen-year-old boy had just fallen from the ceiling and landed among them.

Harry turned to a wizard sitting next to him and suddenly screamed, the scream echoing in the dead silence of the room.

He was sitting next to Albus Dumbledore.

This was really bad, Harry felt like he was going to be killed by Fan Lin.

"Professor!" Harry said in a low voice, "I'm sorry - I didn't really mean - I was just looking at the stone basin in your cupboard - where - where was I?"

But Professor Dumbledore didn't move or speak, completely ignoring Harry's presence, just staring at a door in the far corner of the room like everyone else.

Harry stared at Dumbledore in bewilderment, then at the crowd who were watching silently, and then at Dumbledore again.

Suddenly, Harry had a flash of inspiration... Once upon a time, Harry found himself in a world where others could neither see nor hear him.

That time, he fell into an enchanted diary and entered someone's memory... Something similar happened again.

Yes, Fanlin also said before, this is Dumbledore's memory.

Therefore, he should be in the pensieve now and was pulled in by Fan Lin, but Fan Lin...

Harry raised his right hand, hesitated for a moment, then stretched it out in front of Dumbledore and waved it vigorously.

Dumbledore didn't blink, didn't look back at Harry, or even move at all.

So he was sure that he was in a memory, and the person in front of him was not the real Dumbledore.

But it shouldn't have been that long ago... The Dumbledore sitting next to him had silver hair, just like the real Dumbledore. But what is this place? The Wizengamot Fan Lin was talking about? What are all these wizards waiting for?

Harry looked at the place more carefully. Just as he had suspected from observing it from above, this room was underground - more like a dungeon than a room, he thought. There was an eerie, cold and scary atmosphere here: there were no paintings on the walls, no decoration at all; the whole room was just rows of seats, one row higher than the other, all fixed so they could clearly see the place. There are chains on the armrests of the chairs.

Before Harry could draw any conclusions about the room, he heard footsteps.

The door in the corner of the dungeon opened, and three people walked in - one person was escorted by two dementors.

Harry's whole body shivered. The Dementors - tall, helmeted creatures with only their eyes visible - were sliding towards the chair in the center of the room, each grabbing one of the man's arms.

Their hands looked like dead, rotting hands, and the man between them looked like he was about to faint. Harry figured he couldn't blame him... even though he knew the Dementors wouldn't touch him since it was in a memory, he was still a little scared because he still clearly remembered how powerful they were.

The onlookers flinched as the Dementor placed the man on the chained chair and slid out of the room, the door closing after them.

Harry looked down at the man sitting in the chair. It turned out to be Karkaroff.

Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looks much younger; his hair and goatee are black.

But the difference was that he was wearing thin, torn clothes instead of smooth leather, and he was shaking. The iron chains on the chair suddenly shone with golden light, crawled up his arms like a snake, and tied him there.

"Igo Karkaroff." A voice suddenly came out from Harry's left. He looked around and saw Mr. Crouch standing in the middle of the seat next to him.

Crouch's hair is still black, his face is not so wrinkled, and he looks cool and agile.

"You were brought from Azkaban to give evidence to the Ministry. You said you had important news to tell us."

Karkaroff straightened up quickly.

"I do, sir," he said, and although his voice sounded terrified, Harry still caught the familiar glib tone.

"I hope to be of use to the Ministry, I want to help. I - I know that the Ministry is trying to round up the last remnants of the Dark Lord. I am eager to help in any way I can..."

There was a buzz in the audience.

Some people became interested in Karkaroff, others were skeptical.

Suddenly, a familiar growl came from the other side of Dumbledore: "Garbage!"

Harry leaned forward and looked past Dumbledore.

Sure enough, Moody was sitting there - although his appearance was significantly different.

He doesn't have magic eyes yet, just two normal eyes. He was looking at Karkaroff with squinted eyes, with utter disgust.

"Crouch is ready to let him out," Moody whispered to Dumbledore. "He's got a deal with him. It took me six months to hunt him down, if he can provide enough new rosters. Crouch just let him go. Let's listen to his information first, I say, and then just throw him to the dementors."

Dumbledore's long, aquiline nose snorted in disagreement.

"Oh, I forgot... you don't like Dementors, do you, Albus?" Moody had a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Yes," Dumbledore said calmly, "I don't like them. I have always felt that the Ministry of Magic made a mistake in allying with such creatures."

"But for this kind of rubbish..." Moody said softly.

"You said you could give us a name, Karkaroff," said Mr. Crouch, "so please tell us."

"You should understand." Karkaroff said hurriedly, 'that man' always manipulates everything in the most secret way... He likes that, and we - I mean, his followers - now I regret it , I regret very much that I was one of them——"

"Go on!" Moody sneered.

"—We never knew the names of our accomplices—he alone knew who we all were—"

"What a clever idea. It protects people like you, Karkaroff, and betrays everyone else," Moody muttered.

"But you said you could give us names?" said Mr. Crouch.

"I, I can." Karkaroff said out of breath, "They are very important party members. They are not afraid to tell you that I saw him and he was waiting for the opportunity. I provide this information to show that I am completely with him." Breaking off, and expressing deep pity and sympathy for him, I can hardly..."

"What are their names?" said Mr. Crouch sternly. Karkaroff took a deep breath. "It's Anthony Dora Bonfoy," he said. "I - I've seen him torture Muggles and... no, the Dark Lord's men countless times."

"And help him torture them," Moody muttered. "We have Dora Bonver in custody," Krause said. "He was caught shortly after you."

"Really?" said Karkov, his eyes widening. "I'm - I'm - glad to hear that!"

But he looked anything but.

Harry thought it was a real blow to him that one of the names he could offer was no longer useful.

"Anything else?" Crouch said coldly.

"Why, of course...and Roselle," Karkaroff said hurriedly, "Evan. Roselle."

"Rosier is already dead. He was caught shortly after you. He seemed to prefer resistance to obedience, so he was beaten to death during the stubborn resistance."

"Then tell me about my contribution." Moody whispered to the person on Harry's right. Harry looked at him again and saw that he was pointing out the big piece of wood stuck in his nose to Dumbledore. .

"No - not too much, he deserves it!" Karkaroff said, with a hint of panic in his voice. It could be seen that he was beginning to fear that none of his intelligence would be useful.

Karkov's eyes were fixed on the door in the corner. There was no doubt that a dementor was guarding behind it.

"Any more?" Klaus said.

"Yes!" Karkaroff. "And Trevis - he murdered Mackinders! Malhib - he's good at the Impalas spell and drives countless people to do terrible things! Rockwood, he's a spy who specializes in Pass information from the Ministry of Magic to 'that man'!"

It can be said that this time Karkaroff's words worked, and the audience began to whisper.

"Rockwood?" said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who quickly scrawled on the parchment, "Rockwood of the Mysteries Division?" ?”

"Yes," Karkaroff said hurriedly, "I think he controls a network of people who are responsible for collecting intelligence from inside and outside the Ministry of Magic——"

"But we already know Trevis and Malhib," Mr. Crouch said. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that's all, you can go back to Azkban and wait for us to decide -"

"It's not over yet!" Karkaroff shouted, looking desperate. "Wait a minute, I have more!" Under the weak light of the torch, Harry saw him sweating profusely, and his face was frighteningly white, in sharp contrast to his black hair and beard.

"Snape!" he shouted, "Severus Snape!"

"Snape has been excluded from parliament," Crouch said coldly: "Mr. Albus Dumbledore vouched for him."

"Impossible!" Karkaroff shouted, the chain on his body tightening. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"

Dumbledore stood up. "I have provided proof for this." He said calmly, "Severus Snape is indeed a Death Eater. But before Duke Voldemort fell, he had already turned to our side and worked as an undercover agent for us. Providing information. He personally risked his own life. He is no longer a Death Eater." (To be continued)