Kyle wasn’t unfamiliar with the Ministry’s courtrooms—he’d been here twice before.
The first time was for the trial of Peter Pettigrew, to expose the real traitor from seventeen years ago.
The second time was when the Death Eaters tried to turn the tables, attempting to use the Ministry to pin a murder charge on him...
Kyle narrowed his eyes, the memory bringing back the faces of the masterminds behind it all—three damn Death Eaters.
One of them, Karkaroff, had disappeared shortly after and was likely killed by Voldemort.
Another one... Who was it again? Oh, right—Walden Macnair. He’d worked on the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, holding one of the most shunned positions in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
That was actually the main reason Macnair managed to stay in the Ministry despite longstanding suspicions of being a Death Eater.
After all, his post—like the Office for House-Elf Relocation—belonged to one of the most neglected divisions: low pay, barely any staff turnover, and often left to rot without attention for over a decade.
But unlike the House-Elf office, no one in his department, not even the department head, wanted anything to do with the Disposal Committee.
It was precisely that lack of interest that let Macnair slip through the cracks.
Still, he hadn’t been seen in ages—whether he was in hiding or dead, no one knew.
Of the three Death Eaters involved in that old incident, only one remained alive—Malfoy.
Kyle suddenly felt a twinge of regret and muttered under his breath, “Shouldn’t have let that bastard off so easily back then.”
“What was that?” Professor McGonagall glanced over at him.
“Ah, nothing,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Has the hearing started yet?”
“Almost,” McGonagall replied, casting a glance into the courtroom.
The stepped seating was already filling up, and Amelia Bones had arrived as well.
“Let’s head in,” McGonagall said, stepping inside first. Kanna and Kyle followed closely behind.
Compared to Courtroom Ten, where Pettigrew had been tried, this room was smaller and far less grim.
Probably because of the windows.
Courtroom Ten had only a tiny window the size of a hand, with light coming solely from oil lamps mounted on the walls. But here, the windows were enchanted and much more generous, letting in bright sunlight. The whole room felt more like a slightly oversized Hogwarts classroom than a courtroom.
Snape was already there.
Since this was a hearing, not a formal trial, he wasn’t locked in a special iron cage like the Death Eaters had been.
There weren’t even the usual chains on his chair. He was seated alongside several other wizards, across from Amelia Bones.
Kanna was directed to a specific seat on the left. Professor McGonagall sat beside Snape.
Kyle, meanwhile, had to take a place among the Wizengamot members up in the tiered seating.
There were about thirty people present, all dressed in deep purple robes, looking down with interest at Snape—and at McGonagall beside him.
“Not necessarily. If that were the case, Minerva wouldn’t be fighting so hard for him.”
“Fair enough, but I still find it hard to believe anyone could go undercover with You-Know-Who and not get caught.”
“Well, we’ll see what kind of evidence they’ve brought.”
...
The two men continued speaking, glancing curiously at Kyle.
“I remember—you came in with Minerva…”
“This is the Wizengamot seating area. Escorts are supposed to sit down on the left.”
“That’s correct. I’m supposed to be here,” Kyle said, turning slightly to reveal the Second-Class medal hanging on his chest.
“Oh, the Order of Merlin…” one of the elderly wizards said in surprise. “I know who you are—you must be the Kyle old Dugald mentioned, the youngest ever recipient of the Second-Class Order.”
“If there’s not another Kyle with that title, then yes, that would be me,” Kyle replied politely.
The “old Dugald” he referred to was likely Dugald McPhail, Minister for Magic a hundred and fifty years ago, who, after retiring, became a leisurely figure in the wizarding world—well known for his extensive network of friends.
Kyle had met him through Nicolas, and over the past few years, they’d kept up regular correspondence.
“Delighted to see you here,” the old wizard said with a broad smile, reaching out to shake his hand.
“The honor is mine,” Kyle responded.
“Didn’t expect to see you here too, aside from Minerva,” another elderly wizard leaned in and added, “That Severus Snape—he must be quite well-liked at Hogwarts. Makes you wonder... maybe he really was someone Albus placed there.”
“Well… you could say that,” Kyle answered vaguely.
Snape certainly was popular—within Slytherin. As for the other three Houses—especially Gryffindor—they would’ve given anything to see him kicked out of Hogwarts. If this hearing went in his favor, they’d probably be heartbroken enough to cry.
“Very well.”
At that moment, Amelia Bones’s voice rang out from below. “Since everyone is here, let’s begin.”
“We’ll start with your statement,” she said, looking directly at Snape. “You claim to have worked for Albus Dumbledore—we need the details and the full account.”
“You’ll be taking notes, Mr. Weasley,” she added, turning to the other side of the room.
“Yes, Minister,” Percy replied, finally pulling his gaze away from Snape.
To be honest, Percy—being a Gryffindor—had never liked Snape. After all, Snape was infamous for docking points from Gryffindor, especially after Harry had enrolled. Since then, they hadn’t come close to winning the House Cup and were stuck at the bottom of the rankings year after year.
It had gotten to the point where Percy even felt embarrassed in front of the prefects from other Houses.
Still, deep down, he didn’t want to believe a Death Eater had been teaching at Hogwarts.
He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses, quill poised, ready to begin recording.
“It happened seventeen years ago,” Snape began, voice steady. “Sybill Trelawney made a prophecy about the future savior at the Hog’s Head Inn… and I happened to overhear it.”
His tone remained calm as he recounted the events in full detail.
“Hold on a moment…” A few minutes in, Amelia suddenly interrupted him.
“You’re saying it was you who passed the prophecy to Voldemort?”
“Yes.” Snape’s hands clenched into fists, and for the first time, his voice cracked with dryness. “But at the time, I didn’t realize… that he would think the child in the prophecy was… Lily Evans.”
Amelia’s eyes flickered. “Very well. Continue. We’ll need more detailed evidence.”
From that point on, everything played out exactly as Kyle remembered it.
But he noticed something—the way Snape deliberately downplayed his feelings for Lily Evans.
No, more than that—he had recast those feelings as mere friendship. And none of the other wizards seemed to pick up on it.
To them, it probably made perfect sense. Two gifted potion-makers forming a bond? Entirely natural.
Of course, Lily had been married.
But not everyone seemed convinced.
Take the two elderly wizards Kyle had spoken with earlier—they sat listening intently to Snape’s testimony. Unlike the rest of the room, with its solemn expressions, they would occasionally glance at each other and chuckle softly under their breath.
“Love...” one of them murmured quietly, but his voice was so low that even Kyle, standing nearby, couldn't make out the rest.
About half an hour later, Snape finally finished his account, and a low hum of discussion rippled through the tiered seats above.
How to put it… If you looked at things the way Snape told them, he didn’t exactly come off as innocent.
He had, after all, once been a Death Eater—and he had leaked one of the most crucial secrets of the war: the prophecy about the Chosen One.
That alone should have earned him a direct ticket to Azkaban.
And yet, it was precisely because he revealed the prophecy to Voldemort that Voldemort targeted the Potters—and was ultimately defeated by a baby, Harry Potter.
In a strange way, Snape had fulfilled the prophecy himself.
It left people uncertain—was he to be condemned or praised?
“Order, please.” Amelia tapped the gavel lightly against the table.
She already knew most of this and remained composed.
“Next, we’ll need more concrete evidence to support your claims.”
“Here,” Professor McGonagall said, stepping forward with a gleaming bottle in hand.
“This is a memory from Albus Dumbledore. It confirms that Severus Snape is telling the truth.”
At a signal from Bones, a large, ancient-looking mirror was brought into the room. The frame was faded and inscribed with magical runes similar to those on a Pensieve.
Professor McGonagall poured the memory into the mirror. Instantly, the surface shimmered to life, playing the scenes as if they were a moving picture.
Kyle leaned forward with interest, but after watching for a few moments, he sat back again.
This mirror could display memories, but only visually—it lacked the immersive depth of a Pensieve. Still, under the current circumstances, it was the more practical choice.
The memory matched most of Snape’s testimony, though there were a few new revelations.
“Voldemort kidnapped Harry Potter during the Triwizard Tournament?” several people gasped, instinctively turning to look at Bones at the front.
“We’ve already confirmed it with Harry Potter,” she said calmly—yet her words sparked immediate chaos throughout the courtroom.
And then came the second revelation...
“He didn’t realize the Dark Lord deliberately lured him to the Department of Mysteries?”
The Department of Mysteries...
“Oh, I remember now—You-Know-Who appeared for the first time in the Ministry. Dumbledore stopped him.”
“I remember that too. That fight destroyed the entire atrium. Nearly brought down the whole Ministry.”
“So it was him who told Dumbledore?”
The murmuring swelled.
But when the word Horcrux appeared, the whispers exploded into a deafening uproar that nearly tore the roof off the courtroom.
Now they understood how Voldemort had come back—he’d used something as horrifying as Horcruxes.
The memory ended there, and Amelia Bones banged the gavel several times before the room reluctantly settled.
“This portion of the memory will need to be verified for authenticity before a judgment can be made.”
“No problem,” Professor McGonagall agreed without hesitation.
“We’ll also need further supporting evidence.”
“I have it,” she said, already prepared. She pulled out a thick stack of parchment.
“These documents contain everything we’ve compiled in recent years related to Horcruxes. This was what Albus Dumbledore had been working on all along.”
“I imagine many of you have wondered why Dumbledore didn’t hunt down the Death Eaters. It’s because he spent those years tracking and destroying Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”
Under McGonagall’s sharp gaze, a few witches and wizards lowered their heads, clearly ashamed.
Kyle hadn’t expected Snape’s hearing to end up salvaging part of Dumbledore’s reputation as well.
Then again...
Most of those Horcruxes were destroyed by him. Dumbledore had only found the Resurrection Stone...
Well, never mind. Let Dumbledore be the legend. Kyle reconsidered—it was probably better this way. Even if the truth about the Horcruxes came to light, people would assume Dumbledore had been the one to find them.
And no one would suspect that the diadem, the cup, and the locket had been in his possession the entire time.
He might eventually earn a First-Class Order of Merlin for it, but compared to those three artifacts, the medal felt pretty meaningless.
Meanwhile, down below, Professor McGonagall gave a casual flick of her hand, and the stack of parchment flew out in all directions, landing precisely in front of each person.
The next few minutes were spent in silence as everyone pored over the documents.
“These are only your claims. They don’t count as direct evidence.”
“That’s all right. We have a witness,” McGonagall said. “He’s waiting just outside.”
Percy looked to Bones for confirmation, and when she nodded, he walked toward the doors.
Moments later, he returned—followed by none other than Lucius Malfoy.
He had kept his word. Not only had he come to the Ministry voluntarily, but he was appearing in public—as a witness.
Kyle narrowed his eyes slightly and let out a quiet sigh.
Pity. He’d actually hoped Lucius would break his promise.
The coward was still so spineless. Wouldn’t it have been easier to solve this with a few Galleons, like he used to?
Did he really want to go to Azkaban that badly?
And besides, Kyle was now a Hogwarts professor, someone with a respectable position. Even if Lucius had broken his word, it’s not like Kyle could storm into Malfoy Manor and murder him.
What was he so afraid of?
Not only that—judging by how things were unfolding, Lucius had clearly met with McGonagall beforehand and arranged something. That was the only reason he was now appearing as a witness.
Kyle tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his leg.
When did this guy start getting clever...?