At the same time, the atmosphere inside the Ministry Atrium was completely different.
The platform was specially Sonorus, so that even the slightest sound could be heard in the farthest corner of the hall.
Three Potions Master dressed in dark green robes stood behind a table covered with a white cloth on the side of the stage. Belby was holding a crystal bottle between his fingertips, carefully examining the color of the liquid inside under the light.
"The transparency meets the standards." Belby handed the bottle aside, Plunkett held the crystal bottle up to eye level so that everyone could clearly see the potion.
"This Veritaserum was formulated by the three of us together," her voice, amplified by Sonorus, carried clearly to every corner of the main hall. "The entire formulation process was cross-verified, and no ingredient deviated from the standard formula."
Slughorn stood between the two, crossed his arms, and slightly protruded his belly.
He swept his gaze across the audience. " The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers confirms that the Veritaserum used in this inquiry was jointly prepared and cross-tested by the three members, ensuring complete purity and efficacy."
"All three of us believe it is ready for official use."
A low murmur arose from the audience, and the Quick-Quotes Quill brushes scratched.
Dumbledore sat in the high-backed chair in the center of the platform, his hands resting lightly on the armrests, and smiled gently, "You are always so thorough in your work."
Madam Plunkett then took a piece of parchment from her robe, covered with red wax stamps, clearly a certificate of authenticity. She showed the parchment to the audience and then handed it to the Wizengamot representative next to her.
The white-haired old man from Wizengamot took the parchment, examined it closely for a moment, and then nodded to Belby.
"The test results are valid." His voice was amplified by the same Sonorus. " Wizengamot approves of the potion's standard."
Representatives from the International Confederation of Wizards also stepped forward and inspected the seals and wax markings on the crystal bottles one by one.
After confirming there were no signs of damage, the three exchanged a few words, and then the tall male wizard drew a conclusion:
" The International Confederation of Wizards acknowledges the safety of the medication, and inquiries can proceed normally."
Fudge sat in the head seat of the VIP section, trying to appear relaxed, but to little avail.
Belby walked to the center of the platform with the crystal bottle, faced the audience, and cleared his throat:
"Now, in front of everyone, I will hand the Veritaserum to the person being questioned. The questioning will then officially begin."
Several rows of people in the audience subconsciously sat up straight.
Dumbledore took the crystal bottle, looked down at the liquid inside, and then looked up at the densely packed faces below the stage.
"Before we begin," he said, "I'd like to say something first. We're sitting here today because there are some things that need to be clarified."
"That's good, and it's necessary. Trust in the Wizarding World is precious, but also very fragile. I don't want anyone to waste their energy on speculation and rumors."
He paused, his gaze slowly sweeping from the front row of reporters to the crowd in the back, then he unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and drank the Veritaserum.
The whole process took only a few seconds. Dumbledore put down the empty bottle, gently wiped his mouth, and then placed it back on the tray.
There was a moment of silence in the audience, as if everyone was waiting to see if the potion would have any effect.
Dumbledore blinked, his gentle expression still present. "Then, please begin."
Rita was the first to raise her hand. She moved quickly, almost as if she had rehearsed it beforehand, Quick-Quotes Quill spun in mid-air.
" Professor Dumbledore," she began, her voice cloyingly sweet, "I want to ask a question that many people are concerned about."
"You left Harry Potter on his aunt's doorstep eleven years ago, knowing that the family was hostile to magic. Why didn't you raise him yourself?"
The whispers in the main hall subsided. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the high platform.
Dumbledore did not answer immediately, as if he was choosing his words carefully.
"I left Harry with the Dursley family because there's a very ancient magical protection there left by his mother."
"As long as he can still call that place 'home,' this protection will remain, Voldemort cannot get close to him," he said calmly. "It's a defensive choice, not an emotional one."
Rita blinked. "So you admit that you left him in a hostile environment simply to protect him?"
"I admit that the environment wasn't ideal. But sometimes, between ideals and survival, you have to make a less-than-perfect choice."
Dumbledore shook his head and said, "I check on him every now and then, and I admit I don't personally interfere in his daily life."
"But to say that I 'used' him would be a misinterpretation of my true intentions."
The Quick-Quotes Quill flew across the paper as Rita's lips curled into a slight smile.
She felt there was something fishy about that answer, but Dumbledore didn't give her a chance to ask further.
"The next question, let someone else ask it," Dumbledore gestured to the audience.
A middle-aged male reporter wearing square-rimmed glasses stood up in the second row; he wore a badge from the Wizarding News pinned to his chest.
" Professor Dumbledore, are you aware that Professor Quirrell has been possessed by the You-Know-Who?"
"If they knew, why did they let him continue teaching students?"
The air seemed to be sucked away. A low gasp came from the audience, and some people unconsciously leaned back. Fudge's expression tensed up instantly.
Dumbledore's gaze fell on the male reporter's face, pausing for two seconds. "I know Professor Quirrell is acting strangely, but I have no concrete evidence to confirm that he is possessed."
"I secretly observed and took precautions, but I admit that letting him stay in class for so long was a misjudgment."
"At the time, I felt that keeping them within sight was more controllable than expelling them."
"So you admit that you put the entire school's faculty and students at risk?" the reporter pressed.
"I acknowledge that there was a risk involved," Dumbledore said. "I am willing to take responsibility for all my misjudgments, but I do not accept the notion of 'deliberately putting people in danger.' The other professors and I did everything we could to protect them."
The third question was raised by an elderly lady in a maroon coat in the front row; she was a senior reporter for The Witch Weekly.
"What do you think of that book that caused such a sensation in the Muggle world? Its content closely matches reality. Do you know who the author of this book is?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow slightly, as if this question were more interesting than the previous two, "The author of that book remains unknown; I don't know who he is."
"Regarding those coincidences, I can only say that there are many magical phenomena that we don't yet fully understand. This book is one of them."
"I've read it. Some parts are surprisingly accurate, but some details are artistically embellished."
"Therefore, my advice is: neither believe everything nor deny everything."
The Quick-Quotes Quill in the audience began to spin. Rita frowned; she felt the answer was too smooth, leaving almost no room for criticism.
Just then, someone in the back row raised their hand. It was a young witch in a dark green robe, her voice clear and bright. "Where is the You-Know-Who You-Know-Who? The book says he's still here. Do you believe it?"
The entire room fell silent instantly; even the quills paused for a moment. Fudge's face turned visibly pale. He instinctively considered standing up to interrupt, but ultimately did not move.
Dumbledore's expression darkened slightly. He remained silent for a few seconds before speaking, "I believe Voldemort is not truly dead."
Everyone in the main hall heard it clearly, and several people shrank back.
"He is very weak right now, but he is not completely gone. We should be prepared for this, rather than pretending that the problem doesn't exist."
Silence blanketed the entire main hall like a thick blanket. Several seconds later, someone let out a long exhale, Quick-Quotes Quill, as if startled awake, began to dance wildly again.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and tilted his head slightly. "Is there anyone else who wants to ask a question?"
A female reporter wearing a round hat in the front row tentatively asked, "So what are your plans? If the You-Know-Who really comes back, do you have a plan?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said, "But the specifics are not appropriate for this occasion. I can only say that Hogwarts is not unprepared; we have been making preparations."
His tone was calm, even reassuring.
The people in the audience exchanged glances, and the tension eased slightly.
Just then, the bronze door on the side of the main hall was suddenly pushed open with a dull thud.
Everyone turned to look. Hector, the director of the Department of Magical Transportation, stood pale-faced in the doorway, as if he had just stumbled out from somewhere.
He stood in terror by the doorway, his gaze piercing through the dense crowd and landing on Fudge.
His voice was almost squeezed out of his throat.
"Minister, Hogwarts... all of Hogwarts ' Floo Network has been severed."
"The situation is extremely urgent!"