At Eleven, a Wizard War Criminal

1991, London.

"Mr. Roger Virgil, your trial is about to begin. Come with us." The lead wizard guard wore a cold expression and spoke stiffly, with the air of an official going through the motions. But the slight tremor in his pupils showed that he was not as calm as he appeared.

...So the day had finally come.

Knowing that the turning point of his fate was imminent, Roger found it hard to remain calm. Still, he rose from the bed and walked steadily toward the cell door.

Whether hope or despair awaited him, all he could do was face it.

Any irrational action other than facing adversity head-on would only make his situation more difficult.

A wizard stood in each of the four directions around him, surrounding Roger in the middle. They were merely escorting an eleven-year-old child who had not even enrolled at Hogwarts, yet these guards had put on the sort of formation used to escort Death Eaters to Azkaban.

Looking at the four wizards around him, Roger Virgil could not help recalling his experiences over the past half year.

Originally, he had merely been an ordinary person born beneath the red flag in a peaceful country.

But fate seemed to have played a little joke on him. An accident had made him close his eyes, and when he opened them again, he had become a ten-year-old child.

Had that been all, it would have been fine. Though he had become blond and blue-eyed, returning to youth and living a second life was, all in all, a great blessing.

Returning from the twenty-first century to 1990 also gave him opportunities to capitalize on World Cup upsets, Bitcoin, short Pound Sterling, plan ahead in real estate, and invest early in internet and gaming companies that would shine in the future. He could have climbed to the pinnacle of life and become a first-generation super-rich man.

But before reaching the pinnacle of life, Roger Virgil had one small problem to solve.

His rebirth location was somewhat wrong.

Looking at his parents lying in pools of blood, Roger touched his left arm. It was soaking wet, but what dampened it was not water. It was blood.

Having taken over another body, Roger searched through the memories from before the original owner's death and confirmed his circumstances.

He was a citizen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but this was not Britain itself.

In this life, Roger had become the child of a British family with fairly good circumstances. His father was an engineer, while his mother came from a moderately wealthy merchant family. After marrying her, his father had helped manage the portion of the family business that belonged to her.

Roger's mother was responsible for foreign trade. After taking over the family business, the couple had worked hard together in a foreign land. Wanting Roger to have a complete childhood with both parents by his side, they had brought him along with them.

Then.

War broke out.

Logically speaking, even with war, Roger's parents would not have thought much of it. For one thing, they lived in the country's capital. If things went south, they could leave in time.

For another, they were British!

Although cries for equality had long echoed throughout the world, civilians from the five permanent member states were simply more equal than civilians from the Third World! Even if they were only ordinary people.

Unfortunately, man proposed and heaven disposed. The place they were in was called Kuwait.

The year was 1990.

Everything happened too quickly. No one had expected it.

At 1:00 a.m. on August 2, 1990, with close support and coordination from the air force, navy, amphibious forces, and special operations forces, three divisions of the Iraqi Republican Guard crossed the Kuwaiti border and launched a surprise attack on Kuwait.

That very day, the Iraqi army completely occupied Kuwait City.

It then continued its offensive, with follow-up forces pouring into Kuwait without end. The Iraqi army occupied all of Kuwait. The Iraqi forces that entered Kuwait numbered around 200,000 men, with more than 2,000 tanks.

Kuwait was thus wiped out at "light speed."

Iraq designated Kuwait as its "nineteenth province."

Roger's family, including Roger himself, had lost their lives in the chaos of that process.

That was how the current Roger Virgil had come to possess this body.

After figuring out his circumstances, Roger had to find a way for a ten-year-old child to survive the Gulf War, an event that was about to become a key moment for America to display its military power and usher in a new global order.

Roger had no intention of becoming one of the 500,000 children "sacrificed" among the approximately 500,000 children UNICEF later estimated had died due to the war and the sanctions that followed.

Driven by an overwhelmingly strong desire to survive, Roger began to act. After brushing past death several times, he found a way to survive this war. That was...

.

.

.

"Impersonating a religious prophet." After pausing, the young wizard with short pale blond hair continued listing Roger's charges.

"Displaying and promoting the existence of magic before Muggles, using magic on Muggles, indirectly killing Muggles through the power of magic, intervening in a war between Muggles... Any one of those would be a serious crime once placed on the scales."

"Will I die?"

The wizard guard stood outside the room. Roger looked at the man who called himself his lawyer.

Naturally, Roger had no way to hire a wizard who understood Ministry of Magic law. This wizard lawyer had been "assigned" to him.

"Most likely not. Your charges are serious, but there are also many points of contention. Even under normal circumstances, sentencing an eleven-year-old child to death would cause quite a stir."

"And now, such a verdict will be even less likely."

"Why?" Roger looked at his defense lawyer in confusion.

"It has to do with the Minister for Magic. The current Minister, Fudge, only took office last year. He has been in the position for less than a year and has not yet established himself. For any slightly major decision at the Ministry of Magic, Fudge consults Headmaster Dumbledore and borrows Dumbledore's name to endorse his actions, lest the people below him prove 'insufficiently obedient.'"

"Although your case will be ruled on by the Wizengamot of the British Ministry of Magic, it involves the American Ministry of Magic and magical forces in the Middle East. Fudge will certainly seek Headmaster Dumbledore's opinion. Given Headmaster Dumbledore's usual conduct, he could never recommend the 'death penalty.'"

"Under those circumstances, the Ministry of Magic, as the prosecution in this case, cannot possibly go all out against you or provide the Wizengamot with too much evidence unfavorable to you."

The Wizengamot was an organization older than the Ministry of Magic, something like a combination of court and parliament. It held both judicial and legislative power and could even directly impeach the Minister for Magic when necessary.

If the power of Pure-blood families was more concentrated in the Ministry of Magic, then the power of powerful wizards was more concentrated in the Wizengamot.

Of course, some placed their bets on both sides.

"Then..."

As if seeing what Roger wanted to ask, the lawyer shook his head and continued, "Don't celebrate too soon."

"Though you likely will not receive the death penalty, the result may be more miserable than death."

Roger understood the implication behind the lawyer's words. "...Azkaban?"

Azkaban was the most secure and terrifying prison in the British wizarding world.

Prisoners incarcerated in Azkaban were tormented day and night by the Dementors, magical creatures that served as "guards." They were forced to relive the most painful experiences of their lives over and over, experiencing them as if they were happening again, unable to escape. At the same time, the Dementors fed on their happy emotions. Those without sufficient willpower often went mad within a few months. Even if they were released afterward, they were little different from the dead.

Azkaban's existence did indeed deter many criminals, but it was also far too terrifying. Some people had committed crimes, but their crimes did not warrant such punishment.

Before Azkaban was built as a prison, the various prisons established throughout the country had been converted into places for housing minor offenders. Roger Virgil had previously been held in one such detention center.

"Most likely," the lawyer said helplessly.

"Is there any chance to turn this around? We do not need to argue for acquittal. We can argue for lesser charges. Even being imprisoned in a detention center would be acceptable." Roger stared into the lawyer's eyes and asked seriously.

The lawyer wore a helpless expression. "The chances are slim. Your charges are too troublesome."

"Unless..."

Roger did not press him. He simply waited quietly for the lawyer to continue.

"Unless the headmaster of Hogwarts is willing to step in and vouch for you. But that is practically impossible. I believe you understand why."

There was a saying among lawyers in British wizarding society: "The outcome of a court ruling is decided not within the courtroom, but outside it."

Though many matters were clearly written into legal statutes, society was not founded on law. That was a legal scholar's fantasy. On the contrary, law was founded on society.

The laws of the Ministry of Magic were formulated or recognized by the Ministry of Magic and enforced through its coercive power. They reflected the will of the ruling class as determined by specific material conditions of social life. With rights and obligations as their content, they were a system of norms intended to establish, protect, and develop social relations and social order beneficial to the ruling class.

Put simply, the Ministry of Magic's laws served the will of the magical world's ruling class and social stability.

The Ministry of Magic sounded supreme, the center of power in the British wizarding world, but that was not actually the case.

In wizarding society, those who truly controlled resources were ancient wizarding families with deep foundations, like the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Those who truly held influence were powerful wizards and authorities in their fields, such as Albus Dumbledore, Newt Scamander, and the great alchemist Nicolas Flamel.

They were the true ruling class of wizarding society.

The Ministry of Magic, the managers on the surface, was merely a group of upper-middle ranks serving as "stewards" within wizarding society. Before issuing a decree, the Minister for Magic still had to discuss it with the representatives of Pure-blood family interests and powerful wizards within the various departments under his command.

The Ministry of Magic's authority did not come from the Minister for Magic. It was propped up by the family powers embedded in every department.

When the Minister for Magic lacked sufficient authority himself, he had to ask a powerful and highly respected wizard like Dumbledore to support him before he could command his subordinates.

If Dumbledore were willing to protect Roger, this case would become much easier to handle.

Powerful wizards were the uncrowned kings of wizarding society. Everyone respected them.

Everyone had to respect them!

The law had to respect them too! But the lawyer did not think it likely that Dumbledore would protect Roger.

Because of one of Roger's charges.

Using the convenience of magic to indirectly kill a large number of Muggles.

Though Roger had only done so in self-defense.

Strictly speaking, it should have counted as self-defense.

But the problem was...

"Did I kill too many people?" Roger murmured quietly.

During the roughly half-year war, nearly a hundred people had been killed by Roger's own hand alone.

And the number of people who had died indirectly because of him was even more...

Hearing Roger's muttering, the lawyer recalled the string of numbers in his case file and could not help shuddering.

Come to think of it, how many people had the Death Eaters who followed Voldemort killed on average?

Did they have even one-tenth of this child's count?!