Re-examination

As the sun neared its highest point, the Aurors, who had been waiting restlessly or listlessly, finally saw the gates of Hogwarts open once more. Their Minister for Magic came out first, but his expression was extremely ugly, utterly lacking the high spirits he had shown that morning.

The Aurors who understood the Minister's little scheme exchanged glances, then helplessly curled their lips. Clearly, they knew that even after bringing people along to bolster his authority, their minister still had not gotten the better of things. In fact, they did not need to look at his face to know that—the so-called deterrence had long since become a joke after such a prolonged wait.

They even suspected that once the students watching graduated and joined the Ministry of Magic, this affair would become something their juniors teased them about.

The Aurors who did not understand the Minister's little scheme, meanwhile, were thinking that this wasted morning could finally end, while curiously looking behind the grim-faced Minister—

A girl in Slytherin robes emerged with a smile. Behind her came Madam Bostede and Headmaster Dumbledore. The girl walked at an unhurried pace, and the two old wizards followed just as slowly. These two highly respected old wizards, who usually opposed each other, had willingly fallen half a step behind the girl, as though protecting her—or, even more so, expressing their allegiance.

The Aurors straightened.

It was not merely because of the Minister's hint that they should display their strength. They also knew that this seemingly young girl was the young witch who had single-handedly swept away the Fire Serpent Gang a century ago. Her contribution was undeniable: the dark-wizard community had remained subdued for the following two or three decades.

The veteran Aurors had read plenty of confidential documents, so they knew very well that although much of the brutal material had been sealed long ago, when their parents or grandparents were still children, she had nevertheless been a witch whose status was no lower than Dumbledore's current standing.

In both sentiment and reason, they ought to show her respect.

Following behind the four of them was Hagrid, carrying a little red umbrella and walking somewhat hesitantly. The intimidating Aurors had clearly made him nervous.

Dumbledore noticed this. He turned around, raised his head, and said soothingly, "Relax, Rubeus. You don't need to do anything. You only need to watch as your name is cleared."

"All right, Professor Dumbledore." Hagrid took a deep breath and firmly stepped out of Hogwarts.

It was not yet lunchtime, so the young witches and wizards were still in class. That did not stop the windows from filling with heads. They were extremely curious about this strange group and whispered among themselves.

Harry's classroom was not near the entrance, so he learned about it from someone else while eating lunch in the Great Hall. When he heard that Hagrid had gone along, he instinctively touched the pocket of his robes. Inside was the diary containing Voldemort's memories from his youth.

Harry knew very well that this was Cyberlina's handiwork—the pocket had been enlarged considerably, just like the pockets in her sleeves. He could even fit all the books he normally used in class inside, but he did not dare. For two days, he had kept only this diary there, because he was afraid Voldemort might crawl out through the book and reach somewhere else—like those cockroaches in the Muggle world whose destination you could never predict.

Of course, as Harry, he could not possibly resist trying to have a few unfriendly exchanges with the young Voldemort. Unfortunately, the conversation between these two people, who were destined to be incompatible, was destined to be even less friendly than he had imagined.

Once the layer of gentility was stripped away, the young Riddle proved aggressive and rude. He had nothing kind to say about the boy who, in the future, would "survive" his attack. Harry was not exactly even-tempered either. Since childhood, he had been beaten by Dudley countless times for failing to keep his mouth shut, and then he had spent more than a year under Snape's tutelage. Thus, the two began an immensely satisfying exchange of "greetings."

In the end, after Riddle angrily launched a tirade at everyone around Harry, Harry furiously wrote, "I'm going to tell Senior Cyberlina," and then snapped the diary shut.

—Although he did not know what had happened after he fell asleep, he could tell from Riddle's conversation that the other boy both feared and resented Cyberlina. So Cyberlina really was effective.

For Harry, who was sitting in the Great Hall now, the important thing was something mentioned during that less-than-friendly conversation. As they argued, the two had somehow started talking about the Chamber of Secrets, then moved on to bloodlines and races. After two hot-blooded boys lost their tempers and began saying whatever came to mind, Riddle blabbed about his own "glorious achievement" to mock the kind Hagrid Harry had mentioned as weak, useless, and empty-headed.

Thus, Harry's face broke into a small smile amid the noisy Great Hall. He knew that Dumbledore and Cyberlina must have taken Hagrid to overturn his conviction!

Harry, lost in happiness, completely failed to notice that Hermione, sitting opposite him, had slightly raised her chin and narrowed her eyes as she studied him.

The group at the center of the students' discussion entered the Ministry of Magic's lift amid the covert chatter of personnel from its various departments. In fact, their arrival had already made the Ministry's much-discussed topic lose its appeal.

Their destination was the tenth floor, which the lift could not reach.

The lift stopped on the ninth floor.

Because Bostede and Fudge were both members of the Wizengamot conducting the interrogation, they had gone to the tenth floor ahead of the others after entering the Ministry. Now, the only people who needed to step out of the lift were Cyberlina, Dumbledore, and Hagrid.

Cyberlina stepped out first and entered the empty corridor.

"The Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore suddenly said in the empty corridor, his tone unreadable.

"Yes, the Department of Mysteries." Cyberlina repeated the words with a smile.

"So this is the Department of Mysteries? Nobody told me when I came last time." Hagrid turned his head several times to look around, then looked toward the black door at the far end. "I heard that none of the things here are made public, and everything is kept mysterious. I remember there's a Hall of Prophecy here, isn't there? That—"

"Cyber, we need to go this way." Dumbledore had already reached the opening on the left side of the corridor. He smiled at the other two. "Oh, sorry, Rubeus. What were you saying?"

"Nothing, nothing." Hagrid smiled and awkwardly followed behind Cyberlina. He did not know whether he ought to pass her, but her pace was indeed far too slow for him.

As they descended the stairs, Dumbledore said with a smile, "Actually, Cyber, some of your records were placed in the Department of Mysteries."

"Oh, that makes sense." Cyberlina accepted this readily. "But they don't seem to have discovered anything more—not even what I told the portraits."

"After all, the portraits and ghosts of Hogwarts are very loyal to Hogwarts." At the bottom of the stairs, in the dim corridor, Dumbledore's voice rang clearly. "Whether it was Armando or me, we would both choose to keep some of your little secrets."

The blunt words drew Cyberlina's gaze toward Dumbledore. Beneath the torchlight, his white hair had a faint yellow tinge. Because of the reflection on his lenses, she could not clearly see his eyes, but she felt the gaze of those sky-blue eyes upon her.

Cyberlina looked away and smiled. "Thank you, Albus."

Hagrid had just been about to agree that Professor Dumbledore was a good man when he realized that the two people ahead had stopped—in front of a black door bearing a massive iron lock.

Cyberlina raised her hand and twisted the metal handle—

The interrogation room, enclosed by black stone walls, was unusually gloomy. Dim torches illuminated the floating chairs, yet left the people sitting upon them shrouded in darkness.

The heavy door closed behind them. With the prisoner and witnesses present, the retrial, delayed for several hours, should have begun immediately.

But no one spoke.

The only sound in the gloomy interrogation room was the crackling of flames.

Countless gazes, each carrying different emotions, fell upon Cyberlina. She merely clasped her hands in front of herself, lowered her eyes slightly, and wore a faint smile at the corners of her mouth. Without saying a word, she allowed those impolite stares to remain fixed upon her.

Dumbledore stood behind her, calmly clasping his hands and looking entirely at ease. Hagrid, meanwhile, stared at the chair fitted with chains, his enormous body trembling slightly.

"Ahem—well then—" Fudge finally could not bear to let the silence continue. "The person under interrogation, Rubeus Hagrid—sit down."

The gazes directed at Cyberlina began to diminish. She raised her eyes toward Fudge, seated in the exact center of the first row, and said mildly, "Minister, I believe Mr. Hagrid is here today to clear his name. There is no need to follow the procedure for interrogating a suspect."

"No, Madam Sekerei." Fudge raised a smile. "This is the Ministry of Magic. All procedures must still be followed. Otherwise, wouldn't everything descend into chaos?"

"All right." Cyberlina shrugged. "But I don't think he needs to sit in a chair meant to restrain prisoners."

"Oh, Madam Sekerei, this—" Fudge stopped because he saw the chair begin to change.

It transformed into a soft sofa that looked extremely comfortable, while the chains became a long blanket and flopped limply across the sofa.

The members of the Wizengamot began whispering among themselves.

A witch with a square jaw and short gray hair pushed up her monocle and revealed a startled expression.

Fudge was somewhat incensed. Cyberlina's actions were clearly challenging his authority as Minister for Magic. But when he recalled himself sitting miserably to one side that morning, listening to three people discuss the past, he swallowed his anger. He merely trembled and gritted his teeth as he said, "Fine—very well."

Hagrid looked at Cyberlina with gratitude and admiration, then stepped forward and sat on the sofa, instinctively letting out a comfortable, "Ahh."

Bostede sat in the back row, looking enviously at Hagrid and the sofa beneath him.

The official remarks before the trial were long and rigid, practically repeating the entire trial from forty-nine years ago from beginning to end.

As she listened, Cyberlina could not help whispering to Hagrid, "Why aren't you saying more?"

"I...I..." Hagrid's face flushed red, but he could not say anything.

His previous trial had left a deep impression on him, yet the memories were also incredibly muddled. Even now, he did not know what he should have done back then, nor how to explain to everyone that Aragog could not possibly have done such a thing. But he truly had not been given many chances to speak for himself at the time. He could only repeat over and over that he had not committed the evil act of opening the Chamber of Secrets.

But no one had believed him.

"It's all right. Don't worry. I'll speak for you this time." Cyberlina gently patted Hagrid on the shoulder.

Hagrid looked at her emotionally, his eyes brimming with tears. "Oh...Cyberlina..."

Dumbledore lowered his eyes to his toes and thought silently, Another one.

"—Witness Cyberlina Sekerei, please present your testimony." Madam Bones—the startled gray-haired witch from earlier—looked toward Cyberlina.

Cyberlina lifted one side of her robes, placed one hand against her chest, and bowed slightly.

"May I choose to provide evidence directly?"

Fudge instinctively objected. "No, you never mentioned this before—"

"Perhaps you could first explain how you intend to provide the evidence." An elderly voice interrupted Fudge from within the darkness.

Fudge's expression went blank for an instant after being interrupted, then turned slightly strange. He recognized the voice as belonging to an elderly wizard from a pure-blood family that funded the Ministry of Magic. He also remembered that the man had once said he thought highly of him.

"Then—what evidence do you intend to provide, Madam Sekerei?" Fudge adjusted his expression.

"My memories, sir."

The interrogation room fell silent again for an instant, but then it grew lively. The whispers gradually became louder, and even more gazes fell upon Cyberlina.

"You mean—" Fudge was clearly incredulous. "Are you saying you need us to—" He waved his hand toward the entire interrogation room. "All of us—to put our heads into a Pensieve one by one?"

"Perhaps we could watch together?" Cyberlina tilted her head slightly and smiled amiably. "That would save time."

Fudge was left speechless. For a moment, he did not know whether to say they should find a Pensieve large enough or simply reject Cyberlina outright.

"Don't worry. I don't need a Pensieve."

Cyberlina smiled and swiftly drew her wand, pointing it into the air. She ignored everyone's cries of alarm, Fudge rushing forward to stop her, and the rules of this place—just as she had when changing the chair moments ago.

White flames appeared in the air. They burned and expanded, then twisted and transformed into a gleaming white water mirror.

Blue magical traces visible only to Cyberlina writhed beneath the flames, twisting and turning until they became one ancient character after another, clinging beneath the water mirror.

Fudge, who had rushed down from his chair, stood several steps away from Cyberlina. He looked up at the white water mirror illuminating the entire interrogation room, his cheek twitching with rage.

"This method may differ subtly from viewing a Pensieve, but I can guarantee that everything is my genuine memory. I can swear an absolutely truthful, unbreakable vow to that effect."

"Cyber?!" Dumbledore abruptly turned toward Cyberlina.

But Cyberlina ignored him. She merely smiled at Fudge and asked, "Is that acceptable, Minister?"

Fudge coughed lightly, then walked toward Cyberlina with feigned composure and raised his head slightly. "Of course."

"Then Albus can serve as the witness."

"Cyberlina!" Dumbledore stepped forward, but he was clearly reluctant. "That is an Unbreakable Vow."

"I know." Cyberlina had already raised her right hand and looked at Fudge.

Fudge was delighted to see Dumbledore's dark expression. Moreover, there was nothing improper about Cyberlina doing this, so he took her hand and knelt first.

Cyberlina followed Fudge's movement and knelt down, then said to Dumbledore, "Come closer, Albus."

Dumbledore kept his face taut and slowly approached. Then, highly unwillingly, he drew the Elder Wand and pressed it against their clasped hands.

The interrogation room, brightly illuminated by the white water mirror, fell utterly silent. Everyone held their breath and watched the two people kneeling opposite each other in the center.

"Are you willing to vow that the memories you are about to display are all completely true and accurate?" Fudge carefully phrased the question.

"I am willing."

A thin flame shot from the tip of the Elder Wand and coiled around their joined hands.

Fudge faltered. He was not sure what he was supposed to say next. At that moment—

"Are you willing to vow that if the memories I display are true and accurate, the Minister will have the Ministry of Magic acknowledge that all their contents are reliable?" Cyberlina asked.

Fudge considered it carefully and realized that the statement was entirely unnecessary. If the first vow were proven, the second vow would require nothing from him at all.

"I am willing."

Another thin flame appeared and wound around their hands.

One vow remained.

Seeing that Cyberlina was about to speak again, inspiration flashed through Fudge's mind, and he hurriedly cut in, "Are you willing to vow that you will not become an enemy of the Ministry of Magic?"

Several members of the Wizengamot rose with a clatter.

"I am willing," Cyberlina said with a smile.

The final flame wound around their hands.

Cyberlina released Fudge's hand, stood, shook out her robes, and asked everyone, "May I display the memories now?"

"Of course." Fudge also stood. Seeing Dumbledore's displeased expression, he smiled in satisfaction.

Cyberlina pressed her wand against her temple, drew out a strand of silver memory, and cast it toward the white water mirror.

The silver memory passed through the white water mirror, sending out a ring of black ripples. Black mist slowly rose above the mirror, and a handsome boy in Slytherin robes appeared within it.

But his figure was indistinct. Perhaps "a handsome ghost" would have been a more accurate description.

—"No, Albus is right, child. Death cannot be escaped."

Cyberlina's voice suddenly echoed throughout the interrogation room, with no discernible source.

The members of the Wizengamot finally understood the "subtle difference" Cyberlina had mentioned. She was displaying her memories from a first-person perspective.

Within the black mist, the indistinct boy's face twisted slightly. Suddenly, a face appeared behind him—a face belonging to Cyberlina, though clearly somewhat more mature than she was now.

—"You've seen me before. Where?"

After Cyberlina's voice sounded again, the members of the Wizengamot also understood what had appeared behind the boy: an image Cyberlina had extracted through Legilimency.

—"More accurately, it was your photograph," the boy said.

The face of Cyberlina began transforming into a photograph—a picture of her turning her head with a smile.

A somewhat disheveled man held a knife and viciously stabbed the photograph. He then slashed at it with mad force, before drawing his wand to repair it with a Reparo—and beginning another round of frenzied cutting.

—"Your photograph, hacked to pieces," the boy sneered.

—"Oh, Marvolo..."

The boy's face stiffened for an instant, then he immediately looked away. But the image extracted through Legilimency behind him did not stop. Dumbledore, whose long hair was still red, was questioning him about the Chamber of Secrets. Those blue eyes stared straight at the boy—he was using Legilimency, but he had failed.

—"No. It's because my Legilimency is so much stronger than Albus's was decades ago." Cyberlina explained it for him.

—"I'm not like this because of immortality, Mr. Riddle. You know I've studied souls extensively...I can tell you clearly that splitting your soul is merely hastening your own destruction."

Cyberlina's voice did not stop, but this bizarre and unbelievable statement immediately caused many people to rise. They stared in shock at the furious face of the boy in the air, then turned in unison toward Cyberlina, who was watching the scene above.

The Legilimency images behind the boy never stopped. Scene after scene that Dumbledore had questioned him about continued surfacing in his mind.

—"You're a clever child. You realized that Albus suspected and guarded against you. But why would you think he shouldn't?" Cyberlina seemed to be questioning those scenes. "Tom—oh, I hope you don't mind my calling you that. I'm not speaking on Albus's behalf. I simply know that he isn't someone who acts without reason. He must have targeted you because of something you did. And look—his suspicions weren't wrong, were they?"

The scenes behind the boy began changing. Everyone saw the actions of his childhood flash through his mind, as well as the younger Dumbledore he had met for the first time.

Dumbledore: "..."

Dumbledore pressed his lips tightly together. His hands, folded within his sleeves, clenched hard. He truly did not know whom this was publicly executing!

—"But without him, I—"

—"Don't say that, Tom. Nothing is ever an excuse for doing evil. Look into your own heart, and don't make excuses for your fall. Look at this, Tom."

A black book appeared in the field of vision of the memory. It floated before the boy without blocking his eyes.

—"Did you open the Chamber and kill your classmate, then make this—make the current you—to lure your juniors, because Albus treated you poorly?"

The scene behind the boy changed. Everyone saw it—he released the Basilisk, and the poor, unfortunate girl encountered it and died on the spot.

The interrogation room fell utterly silent.

—"If Albus had treated you gently, would you not have sought out Slytherin's Chamber?"

Cyberlina's question rang out once more. The boy's memories became several scenes of him searching for the Chamber at Hogwarts. Finally, he opened it in wild delight.

—"If Albus had never suspected you, would you not have searched for the origin of your blood?"

The viewpoint of the memory above the interrogation room began to shift. They realized that Cyberlina had stood up.

The scene behind the boy changed into a dilapidated house with a snake hanging beside the door. The disheveled man raged and shouted at the boy, condemning the boy's mother, condemning his own uncle, and condemning—Cyberlina Sekerei.

The black book floating in front of the boy moved aside, and the boy once again looked directly at the owner of the memory.

—"If Albus had believed you were a good child, would the good-child persona you pretended to be have become real?"

The memory behind the boy continued seamlessly. Everyone saw it—he had killed the middle-aged man who resembled him, as well as the man's parents.

The silence in the interrogation room continued.

Fudge, who now knew that this was Voldemort, had begun regretting everything. These scenes had nothing to do with this retrial! They were entirely Voldemort's personal affairs! But the memory had not finished playing, which meant this was not all of the "memories" Cyberlina had vowed to display—he could not stop it!

Fudge looked toward Dumbledore, only to find him helplessly shaking his head at him—the exact same expression he had worn in his office when indicating that he was powerless against Cyberlina.

Damn, damn, damn! Damn it!

Fudge continued fuming inwardly as the memory in the air continued playing.

Once again, the perspective within the memory moved closer. The vigilance in the boy's eyes was laid bare before everyone. They waited for the scene behind the boy to change, and they also waited for Cyberlina to ask her next question. Then everyone in the interrogation room heard—

—"Without Albus's vigilance, would you not have named yourself Voldemort?"

"Whoosh—"

Almost everyone in the interrogation room stood up at once.

Behind the boy, his memories continued to be displayed through the memories of Cyberlina, who was performing Legilimency on him. He kept writing and drawing on the paper until, in the end, he broke the name "Tom Marvolo Riddle" apart and rearranged it into—"I am Voldemort."

—"I would not."

The boy's voice rang out firmly.

—"See? Nothing Albus did could have influenced you. His suspicions were correct and justified. You were simply a bad child from beginning to end."

Cyberlina's laughter gradually faded as black mist appeared. At the moment her words ended, the black mist swept away the boy's slightly frightened gaze.

The water mirror turned back into flames, and the silvery memories returned to Cyberlina's mind.

In the silence, so complete that no one could scarcely hear even their breathing, Cyberlina smiled at Fudge and raised her right hand to show him the mark left by the Unbreakable Vow.

"Minister, look. I'm still alive, aren't I? Every part of the memory—is true."

Fudge trembled with rage, but he still had to grit his teeth and say, "Yes, your memories are true and accurate. They—all of them—are genuine and reliable."

Therefore—

The Ministry of Magic acknowledged that Voldemort was Tom Riddle, the one who had reported Hagrid at the time.

The Ministry of Magic acknowledged that the person who killed old Tom Riddle's family was Voldemort, not Morfin Gaunt.

The Ministry of Magic acknowledged that Voldemort was a half-blood with Gaunt Family blood.

The Ministry of Magic acknowledged that Voldemort had split his own soul—which meant that the one killed by the Chosen One at the time might have been only a part of him!

"Good." Cyberlina smiled happily. "It seems our Mr. Hagrid is innocent, doesn't it?"