The Ministry of Magic's grand gathering brought together the most powerful and influential figures in the British Wizarding World, yet not a sound could be heard.
There was Barty Crouch Sr. and Director Fawley, representing the old European Pure-blood Families; Lucius, representing the native Pure-blood Families that had prospered under the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy; Fudge and Umbridge, from ordinary Pure-blood Families with humble roots; Lupin and Longbottom, from Pure-blood Families specializing in particular fields; and Professor McGonagall, representing the half-blood wizards with loose ties to Pure-blood Families...
There was Scrimgeour, a hard-line wizard supremacist, and Dumbledore, a moderate reformist. There were so many more...
Yet everyone was stunned by Anton's words.
No wizard had ever acted like Anton: offering no incentive, making no gentle appeals, threatening no one's life. He simply said, "I've made up my mind. You'll have to cooperate."
Top wizards certainly had that right, but it seemed no one had ever exercised it.
"Is no one going to say anything?"
"Fine, then let me say a little more."
Anton glanced around, chuckled, and slowly paced across the Circular Platform encircled by Stone Steps. He always managed to stride like he was taking the stage, even on a courtroom platform where people felt judged and uneasy.
"If you ask me, you don't know a damn thing!"
He seemed to think of something and sneered. "Take Professor Dumbledore destroying the island prison of Azkaban. A lot of you have been harboring resentment about it in private. Why?"
A glint seemed to shine in Anton's eyes. He looked around, starting with Barty Crouch Sr. and the others. One by one, they avoided his gaze, afraid to meet his eyes.
"Ever since the legendary Archmage Merlin, this land under the British Ministry of Magic has been the center of