Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

The mere mention of Voldemort's name plunged the entire meeting room into an atmosphere of panic.

Some wizards widened their eyes, their faces turning ashen, while several older witches instinctively clutched the amulets on their chests, muttering softly as if in prayer. One wizard even tried to cover his ears, the screech of his chair scraping against the floor as if he desperately wanted to escape.

Fudge's reaction was particularly noticeable. His face flushed crimson, as if ignited by flames, his features contorted with anger, and his short, stubby fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly it seemed he would crush it.

He glared at Dumbledore, his eyes filled with rage mixed with a hint of suppressed terror.

"Enough, Dumbledore!" Fudge suddenly exploded, his voice echoing like thunder throughout the meeting room. "Stop spreading this ridiculous atmosphere of terror! We have no direct evidence that he has truly returned!"

Dumbledore remained unfazed by Fudge's outburst. He calmly raised his head, his gaze piercing through Fudge's crimson face from behind his half-moon spectacles, his tone gentle but with an undeniable firmness.

"The evidence is already before you, Fudge," he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, his tone becoming even more steady. "You simply need to open your eyes and take a good look."

The entire meeting room fell silent, as if even the air had solidified. Fudge, however, clearly had no intention of calming down, angrily panting, his fists clenching until his knuckles cracked.

"Evidence? Dumbledore!"

"The first piece of evidence is the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. To this day, Voldemort's curse still hangs over that position, which is why we are forced to replace the professor every year."

Dumbledore surveyed the room, speaking calmly.

"In the second semester of 1991, Hogwarts hired a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—Quirinus Quirrell. Voldemort possessed him and came to Hogwarts to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, but he was ultimately stopped by Harry Potter and his friends."

"I have a magical recording here, which we can all watch together."

With that, he produced a magical recording and played it on a pre-prepared magical television. The content was none other than Quirrell's final recording, entitled 'I am reporting this under my real name, the Dark Lord doesn't treat his subordinates like people at all!'

The recording showed Quirrell tearfully recounting his encounter with Voldemort, how he was bewitched, and then the entire process of helping him steal the Sorcerer's Stone.

Barely halfway through, Fudge impatiently interrupted, "This is too outrageous! How could the Dark Lord possess him? Is he a ghost?"

"No," Dumbledore said softly, "Fourteen years ago, Voldemort murdered the Potters, and then when he tried to kill Harry Potter, he failed. He was struck by his own Killing Curse and became less than a ghost, which is why he was able to possess Quirrell."

"Then where is Quirrell? Why isn't he here to face everyone's questions?"

"For his own safety, Quirrell went into hiding completely after recording this."

"Hmph, went into hiding," Fudge became even more impatient. "Dumbledore, the curse could have been cast by someone else. This magical recording cannot prove its authenticity either. In other words, neither of these can be considered direct evidence."

"What about Barty Crouch Jr.?" Dumbledore looked into Fudge's eyes. "Barty Crouch Jr. impersonated his father for an entire year without being detected. In the end, he even kidnapped Harry Potter in broad daylight, all to help Voldemort return. Karkaroff can testify to this."

These words landed like a bombshell. All the wizards' eyes turned to Fudge. They recalled the rumors of Karkaroff's capture, but they never understood why Fudge had directly imprisoned him in Azkaban.

The Ministry of Magic now had a room directly connected to Azkaban. Karkaroff could be brought in to testify at any time. They were eager to hear what Karkaroff would say.

Under the intense gazes of the crowd, Fudge remained calm. He lightly tugged at his collar and calmly issued an order, "Go, bring Karkaroff here!"

I knew you'd bring up Karkaroff. I was prepared for this.

Soon, a disheveled Karkaroff was dragged in, shackled.

"I protest!" Karkaroff waved his fists. "I am the headmaster of Durmstrang. You have no right to detain me. Aren't you afraid of causing an international incident?"

"At the very least, I want the right to do labor. I also want to go outside. I don't want to be locked up in Azkaban all day."

"Karkaroff! You can have the right to do labor, but you must cooperate with us and answer questions," Fudge stood up and walked in front of Karkaroff. "Have you ever seen the Dark Lord with your own eyes?"

"No," Karkaroff gently shook his head. "As I said, it was always Barty who contacted me. He asked me to help him get Harry Potter out of school to help the Dark Lord return."

As he said this, his eyes suddenly lit up. "Has that person returned?"

Fudge ignored Karkaroff and waved his hand, signaling for the man to be taken away.

"Fudge," Amelia said dissatisfiedly, "You should have let Karkaroff explain everything that happened that night."

"There's no need," Fudge walked onto the stage. "Everyone has heard clearly. Karkaroff has never seen the Dark Lord. He only saw someone named Barty Crouch Jr."

He paused, a smug smile on his face, as if he had caught a loophole.

"But don't forget, everyone, there are records in Azkaban that Barty Crouch Jr. died there long ago. That is the real evidence!"

"As for what Karkaroff said, we must catch the person he mentioned before we can verify the truth of his words."

Fudge stared intently at Dumbledore, a strange smile on his face.

"I have even more direct evidence," he turned his head to survey the room, then added a Sonorus charm to his voice. "Barty Crouch Sr. is dead. After a joint examination by the Aurors and St. Mungo's healers, it was discovered that he had been subjected to inhuman torture for a year before his death, including the Cruciatus Curse."

"Assuming that the person Karkaroff mentioned is indeed Barty Crouch Jr., then his escape from Azkaban must have been with the help of Barty Crouch Sr."

"I want to ask everyone," Fudge said with a victorious smile, "Do you think a person could be so evil as to torture his own father for an entire year, so evil as to personally kill the father who brought him out of Azkaban?"

"Therefore, that person is definitely not Barty Crouch Jr. I am more inclined to believe that it is a madman proficient in human transfiguration, such as a Metamorphmagus."

The meeting room erupted in discussion. With these two pieces of evidence presented, most people felt that Fudge's words made sense.

"It shouldn't be Barty Jr. He wouldn't kill Barty Crouch Sr., no matter what, right?"

"It's very possible that Barty Crouch Sr. offended many people in the past. Maybe some madman came for revenge."

"Karkaroff's words are not credible. He was likely deceived by someone. Barty Crouch Jr.'s body was buried in Azkaban. I was the one who organized the documents at the time."

"The facts are already very clear. There is no Dark Lord, and there will be no war," Fudge declared victoriously. "Today's meeting is adjourned."