Hogwarts: I am the White Lord

Just hearing Voldemort's name, the entire conference room fell into an atmosphere of panic.

Some wizards stared with their eyes wide open, their faces turned pale, and several older witches subconsciously clenched the amulets on their chests, muttering something softly, as if they were praying. Another wizard tried to cover his ears, and the chair made a harsh friction sound, as if he couldn't wait to escape from here.

Fudge's reaction was particularly noticeable. His face turned purple as if it was ignited by flames, his facial features were distorted with anger, and his stubby fingers were tightly grasping the edge of the table, as if he wanted to crush it.

He glared at Dumbledore with wide eyes, a mixture of rage and a bit of suppressed panic in his eyes.

"That's enough, Dumbledore!" Fudge suddenly exploded, his voice echoing in the conference room like thunder. "Stop spreading this ridiculous atmosphere of fear. We have no direct evidence that he is really back!"

Dumbledore didn't care about Fudge's anger at all. He raised his head calmly, his eyes penetrating Fudge's purple face from behind his half-moon glasses. His tone was gentle but with unquestionable firmness.

"The evidence is right in front of you, Fudge." He paused, his eyes tightened slightly, and his tone became more steady. "You just need to open your eyes and take a good look."

The entire conference room was silent for a moment, as if even the air seemed to freeze, but Fudge obviously had no intention of calming down. He was breathing heavily in anger and his fists were clenched so hard that they made a rattling sound.

"Where's the evidence? Dumbledore!"

"The first piece of evidence is the professorship of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. To this day, Voldemort's curse still hangs over that position, which forces us to hire a new professor every year."

Dumbledore glanced around the room and spoke calmly.

"In the second school year of 1991, Hogwarts recruited a professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quirinus Quirrell. Voldemort possessed him and came to Hogwarts to steal the Philosopher's Stone, but was finally stopped by Harry Potter and his friends."

"I have a magic image here, you can all take a look at it together."

As he spoke, he took out a magic video and played it on the magic TV that had been prepared long ago. The content was exactly the last recording of Quirrell, "I report with my real name, the mysterious man does not treat his subordinates as human beings at all!"

In the video, Quirrell tearfully recounted the whole process of how he met Voldemort, was bewitched by him, and then helped him steal the Philosopher's Stone.

Just after the broadcast was over halfway through, Fudge interrupted impatiently, "This is too outrageous. How could the mysterious man possess him? Is he a ghost?"

"No," Dumbledore said softly, "Fourteen years ago, Voldemort murdered the Potters, and then failed to kill Harry Potter. He was hit by his own Killing Curse and became worse than a ghost, so he was able to possess Quirrell."

"What about Qi Luo? Why doesn't he come to the scene to answer everyone's questions?"

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

"Oh, it's hidden." Fudge became even more impatient: "Dumbledore, the curse could have been cast by someone else, and this magical image cannot confirm its authenticity. In other words, neither of these two items can be used as direct evidence."

"What about Barty Crouch Jr." Dumbledore looked into Fudge's eyes. "Barty Crouch Jr. disguised himself as his father for a whole year without being discovered. In the end, he even kidnapped Harry Potter in public, just to help Voldemort resurrect. Karkaroff can testify to this."

This sentence was like a bombshell, and all the wizards' eyes were fixed on Fudge. They all recalled the rumors about Karkaroff's arrest, but they still didn't understand why Fudge directly put him in Azkaban.

The Ministry of Magic now has a direct access room to Azkaban, and Karkaroff can be brought in to testify at any time. They are very eager to hear what Karkaroff will say.

Under the scorching gazes of the crowd, Fudge was not at all panicked. He gently tugged at his collar and calmly gave an order: "Go, bring Karkaroff here!"

I knew you would mention Karloff, and I was ready for it.

Soon, the dishevelled Karkaroff was locked up.

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

"At the very least, I want the right to labor reform, and I also want to be able to exercise some fresh air. I don't want to be locked up in Azkaban all day."

"Karkaroff! We can give you the right to labor reform, but you have to cooperate with us in answering questions," Fudge stood up and came to Karkaroff, "Have you seen the mysterious man with your own eyes?"

"No," Karkaroff shook his head slightly, "I said that it was Barty Jr. who contacted me. He asked me to cooperate with him to get Harry Potter out of the school and help resurrect the You-Know-Who."

At this point, his eyes suddenly lit up: "Is that person back?"

Fudge ignored Karkaroff and waved his hand to have him taken away.

"Fudge," Amelia said unhappily, "you should ask Karkaroff to tell you everything that happened that night."

"That's not necessary," Fudge walked up to the podium, "Everyone, listen carefully, Karkaroff has never seen the You-Know-Who. He has only met a man named Barty Crouch Jr."

He paused, with a smug smile, as if he had found a loophole.

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

"As for what Karkaroff said, we have to catch the person he was talking about before we can verify the truth of his words."

Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a strange smile on his face.

"I have more direct evidence." He turned his head and scanned the room, then cast an amplification spell on himself. "Old Barty is dead. After a joint examination by Aurors and St. Mungo's healers, they found that he had been subjected to inhuman torture for a year before his death, including the Cruciatus Curse."

"Assuming that the man Karkaroff was talking about was indeed Barty Jr., then his escape from Azkaban must have been inseparable from the help of old Crouch."

"I want to ask everyone," Fudge said with a triumphant smile on his face, "Do you think a person would be evil enough to torture his own father for a whole year, and evil enough to kill the father who took him out of Azkaban with his own hands?"

"So, that person is definitely not Barty Jr. I am more inclined to believe that he is a lunatic who is proficient in human body transformation, such as Metamorphmagus."

There was a burst of discussion in the conference room. With these two pieces of evidence in front of them, most people felt that what Fudge said made sense.

"It shouldn't be Little Barty. No matter what, he can't kill Old Crouch, right?"

"It's very possible. Old Crouch has offended many people in the past. Maybe this is some madman seeking revenge."

"Karkaroff's words are not to be trusted. He may have been deceived. Barty Jr.'s body was buried in Azkaban. I was the one who compiled this document at the time."

"The facts are clear. Without You-Know-Who, there would be no war," Fudge declared victory. "Let's end today's meeting here."