Procedural Justice?

The moment Murphy saw Dumbledore move, he knew the man had seen through his trick again.

If he'd known Dumbledore was coming, he would've brought the real damn diary!

This so-called "Dark Lord's diary" had naturally been forged by Murphy.

After all, trying to use the real notebook to verify the charges he had reported against Lucius was quite difficult. When Tom Riddle wrote that diary, he had no idea that in later generations there would be a fellow named Lucius Malfoy who would follow him.

His "roast it over fire to reveal the writing" trick had only been meant to muddy the waters—if the contents of a Dark Lord's notebook could be viewed with nothing more than Aparecium, that would seem a little too childish. Using fire to roast it, on the other hand, was more likely to break through wizards' usual way of thinking.

And his wearing gloves had been meant to further emphasize the notebook's dangerous nature.

After all, if something that belonged to the Dark Lord didn't have a few curses on it, that really wouldn't make sense.

But none of that mattered now.

Dumbledore had already verified that there was no Dark Magic on the notebook at all.

"A friend gave it to me. He obtained it from the Malfoy family cellar," Murphy said, continuing to spin the lie.

"Would it be convenient to disclose this friend's name?" Dumbledore asked.

"He called himself Tony Wayne," Murphy said, making it up on the spot. "But I suspect it was probably a fake name. He doesn't trust the Ministry of Magic and has been secretly fighting crime."

Dumbledore naturally had no idea what meaning the name of an Iron Man-Batman hybrid held. He pondered for a while, then said, "From what I know of You-Know-Who, he would be unlikely to leave behind such detailed evidence. If it were necessary to leave it behind, then he would certainly place layer upon layer of protection on it."

"This notebook may not have come from You-Know-Who himself," Dumbledore said. "However, we cannot casually ignore the information it reveals. I believe the trials of Crabbe, Goyle, Igor Karkaroff, and the others should be reopened."

After the judges spoke among themselves for a while, they all expressed support for Dumbledore's judgment.

"Mr. Murphy, do you have any other evidence to add?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, Professor."

"Lucius, even if this notebook does not belong to the Dark Lord, your crime of privately hoarding a large number of Dark Magic items has already been confirmed just now through Dobby. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"I... Those... those were insignificant things, heirlooms passed down through my family. I didn't know their specific uses! And! They've all already been destroyed, burned to ashes in Fiendfyre! And the one who set that fire was Murphy Darkholme! Dumbledore, the one you should be putting on trial is him! Not me!"

"It sounds as though we ought to thank Mr. Murphy for making a contribution to the safety of wizarding society," Dumbledore joked.

"Thank him? He burned down my home! Killed my friends! Nearly killed me too!" Lucius screamed, losing control. "He violated the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy! Are you even listening to what I'm saying?!"

Dumbledore looked at Murphy. "Lucius has accused you of multiple crimes: arson, murder, and violating the Statute of Secrecy. Do you have anything to explain, Mr. Murphy?"

"No, Professor. I believe Lucius, that despicable villain, fabricated these lies purely out of a sinister desire for revenge, as well as certain considerations regarding business competition, all to put me to death!"

Although things had reached this point, it was not the best outcome—Lucius had not been sent straight in—but in truth, it was still within Murphy's script.

Reporting Lucius had indeed been a ruthless move, but in reality, Murphy had not necessarily expected it to succeed. This move had actually just been a preliminary step for the follow-up that would clear himself of charges.

"Lucius, you despicable Death Eater! You filth spewing shit from your mouth! A pot of diarrhea Merlin shat out after eating something bad!" Murphy suddenly became filled with righteous indignation. He looked toward everyone on the judges' bench. "Everyone! You all know perfectly well in your hearts what kind of man Lucius is! You all know he's a Death Eater! You all know what he did in those years following Voldemort!"

"Everyone! If you let this demon go again today, then one day, you will feel ashamed of your actions! I sincerely hope that none of you leaves a stain on your conscience!"

"Poisonous lies! Twisting logic! You have no evidence! Your evidence is all fake! Don't listen to his incitement! I'm not guilty! I'm innocent!" Seeing the matter swing back toward putting him on trial again, Lucius also began shouting loudly.

"Silence! Silence!" Dumbledore had no choice but to speak up again, interrupting the two of them as they cursed each other.

He glanced at Murphy, seeming to want to see through his thoughts, while Murphy met his gaze without the slightest fear.

Professor, what are you hesitating for?

You know perfectly well that Lucius is a Death Eater, and today is the best and last chance to bring him to justice!

So what if the evidence is fake?

Against an enemy, do you still need procedural justice?!

The stare seemed to stretch on endlessly, yet also seemed to last only an instant before Dumbledore withdrew his gaze. He raised his hand and looked toward the judges' bench. "I believe we can now render a verdict on Lucius's retrial. Those who believe Lucius is not guilty, please raise your hands."

Among the more than fifty judges, only a sparse dozen or so raised their hands.

Lucius's face darkened. "No, I'm not guilty! I'm not guilty!"

"Those who believe Lucius is a Death Eater, please raise your hands."

To Lucius's surprise, this time, there were still only a dozen or so hands raised.

Dumbledore looked around, then asked again, "Those who believe Lucius is guilty, but not a Death Eater, please raise your hands."

This time, more than twenty hands went up.

"Please put them down." Dumbledore looked at Lucius. "There is insufficient evidence for the charge that you are a Death Eater, but the tribunal believes that you have still committed crimes in privately hoarding Dark Magic items and other matters. You will be sentenced to a fine of five thousand Galleons, as well as three months' detention in Azkaban."

"What? No!" Lucius flew into a rage. "You can't do this to me!"

He glared furiously at everyone, then finally looked at Murphy. "What about him? Why aren't you putting him on trial? I have evidence!"

At that moment, Murphy simply ignored his roaring and looked at Dumbledore instead. "You still haven't stated your own opinion, Professor."

But Dumbledore did not answer. Instead, he looked at Lucius. "What evidence do you have to prove the accusation you just made?"

"I do! I do!" Lucius said. "My pocket. There's a wand there. It belonged to the attacker. I seized it."

He looked at Murphy. "You never expected this, did you? Your wand wasn't burned! And I got my hands on it!"

As he spoke, he grew excited. When a judge found that wand among Lucius's belongings off to the side and placed it on the chairman's table, he looked at the judges' bench. "This is the attacker's wand! As long as you use Prior Incantato on it, you'll be able to see what it did to my house!"

"And I also have a witness who can prove that this wand belongs to Murphy Darkholme!"