Director Alonso, a bald man who usually projected an image of rigor and stiffness, went pale as paper the moment his name was called. Beads of sweat as large as peas formed on his forehead.
Wheeler tried to open his mouth to defend himself, but all that came from his throat was a strange rasping sound. His legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed to the floor.
Some people around him glared at him with hatred, their fists clenched until they cracked. His colleagues instinctively backed away several steps, as though he were radiating plague.
If there had still been room for argument before—
For example, Rita Skeeter, as a foreign witch, would naturally be rejected by American wizards;
Or the fact that her reputation as a journalist was hardly sterling, and her reports were always labeled "of questionable credibility."
But after Lila and the other had disappeared—or rather, escaped—every word uttered by that curly-haired reporter sounded like a sentence being pronounced upon someone.
The list continued. One familiar name after another, one crime after another, large and small alike, was read out in a cold voice.
Some had still clung to the hope that they might not be involved. But when their names were suddenly called, their faces turned ashen. Some collapsed outright, murmuring, "It's over."
The officials and ordinary wizards who had nothing to do with these matters were both shocked and furious.
The upright Aurors no longer waited for anyone's orders. They immediately detained the officials whose names had been called.
"Let me go! I've been framed! Are you trying to rebel? I'm your Supervisor!"
Sloane Paul, who had only just become head of the Auror Office, was also among those named. Yet he did not surrender quietly. Struggling with all his strength, he shouted through a