In the Harry Potter Without Harry Potter

Chapter 442: Who is on trial? (2 in 1)

Chapter 442: Who is on trial? (2 in 1)

Slughorn fell silent at these words from Dumbledore.

Looking around at the wagon students whose faces were red with rage and fist-pumping, the castle half-bloods who were only now getting up the nerve to vent the fire in their hearts, and then at the muggle-born students who were standing up in the corner at a loss for words, following the others, their gazes tinged with fear and with some emotion that looked like something that had been ignited, looking up at the high gallows.

He had understood what Jon had said to Dumbledore, just as Dumbledore had understood what Jon was trying to say at the time.

They had to do more than just break the oppression of bloodlines at this time, to pull the high and mighty down so hard that their faces were pressed against the dirt so they could feel the power of the mudbloods, as they had called them.

It is about engraving the idea of resistance to oppression into the minds of every student.

In the past, Hogwarts, or any other wizarding school in Europe, had only taught students about magic, but now they were going to learn something different.

And it was also during the conversation between Dumbledore and Slughorn that George and Fred had placed the knotted rope around Flint's neck!

At this point, the normally pampered young lord of the Pureblood family was completely stunned.

He had never thought that he would die here, or that Dumbledore would dare to kill him!

But right now there was no room for disbelief, for he had been dragged to the scaffold on the high platform, his neck completely strangled at this point!

Hogwarts hadn't prepared a black cloth for him, which was used to reduce the death row prisoner's fear, which defied the original purpose of their execution of Flint.

After everything had been prepared, instead of the two Weasley brothers taking the job of an executioner, Flitwick waved his wand indifferently, and then the top board of the scaffold that had been supporting Flint's body was abruptly removed!

Flint was hanged in public.

Amidst loud cheers and celebrations, he became the first pureblood wizard to be publicly judged, and the first to be hanged, in this war to overthrow oppression!

Looking up at the dead body still hanging on the gallow, there was horror in the eyes of the pureblood students on the stage, who had been controlled and were waiting to be judged!

Flint was a villain, and even among the many purebloods, his crimes could be considered disgraceful by most pureblood families.

But the rest of them, even if they did not have such a long list of sins as Flint, nevertheless could not be considered clean, otherwise they would not have been put on show trial.

Soon after, Flint's body was dragged down, but the gallows on the platform were not removed but stood out in full view of everyone.

Just as the purebloods waiting to be judged trembled on the stage, the students who had attended the first public trial (show trial) ever held in the magical world were in a state of exhilaration.

But the second culprit to be brought up was not a pureblood.

Instead, it was a boy in a linen robe, with a frightened face and an age that looked like he might as well have been seventeen or eighteen!

While the wagon students might not have recognised this man, all the half-bloods as well as the muggle-borns of the castle below the stage knew that there was only one type of person in Hogwarts Castle who would dress like this.

That was the muggle-borns who were only allowed to live in the basement, slaves who could only work for the higher blood for the rest of their lives!

Wasn't this a trial against the purebloods? Wasn't it a rave of revenge for the muggle-borns? Why hold it against the muggle-borns who had also been rescued from Hogwarts Castle?

Apart from a very few like Cedric, who could see that the round face of the muggle student was different from all the others and his hands clearly free of marks from rough work, most of the other half-blood students were left with a lot of confusion.

The muggle students, on the other hand, all looked in shock at the male wizard being brought up on the raised platform, and of course, they all knew who this man is.

McGonagall's voice rang out across this entire square.

"Pape Henderson, a seventh-year student of Hogwarts Castle Muggle House who also holds the job of Head Boy, yes or no?"

Henderson's entire body was shaking uncontrollably, and he shivered as he was dragged by both George and Fred to stand.

"Yes, I am not guilty, I was enslaved. I was forced."

He replied so quietly that the students at the back of the seat could only see him open his mouth and then wonder what he was saying.

Fred had the good sense to place his wand against Henderson's throat and use the Amplifying Charm.

"Answer again, are you Pape Henderson?" McGonagall asked anew.

"Yes, I am."

Now his voice, which could not help but contain the tinge of sobs, was finally audible to all.

But by this time the wagon students were also showing their doubts, and they were all a little confused as to why a muggle student, an object of enslavement and oppression, was actually the one who appeared for the ongoing trial.

And having established Henderson's identity, McGonagall stopped looking at him and turned her head to the corner of the audience below, where the rescued muggle students from the original castle were located.

"Ren Riley."

She spoke a name, and then as everyone in the room watched, a boy who looked like he was about Jon's age shuddered and rose from his seat.

"I'm, I'm here, mf, ma'am."

He was so nervous that he didn't know what to shout, but McGonagall clearly didn't care about that, nor did any of the other wizards in the audience, instead they all stared at him for a moment wondering why he was being called upon.

"Come up here, Mr Riley."

Her voice was still as serious as ever, but noticeably less aloof than it had been a moment ago.

And as if sensing this, the boy named Riley winced and left his seat, then walked up to the raised platform in front of everyone present.

"Do you know this Mr Henderson?"

McGonagall's voice carried throughout the square, and everyone else in the square was watching the scene.

Riley just looked up at Henderson for a second before he lowered his head again in fear.

And Henderson had turned into what looked like a lost soul at this point, his entire eyes were dazed.

"Recognize, know."

"Now then turn around, Mr Riley, and face everyone here and tell everyone what this Mr Henderson once did to you when you first entered Hogwarts Castle."

Riley looked like a timid hamster with a spotlight on him, his face was full of cowardice, he hid his left hand behind his back and even though he had turned to look at everyone on the ground as McGonagall had said, his head was still down.

"No, no, he didn't do anything."

"To be honest, Mr Riley, every word that comes out of everyone's mouth on this high platform is recorded." McGonagall said solemnly, "A momentary lie can't remain unpunctured forever."

Riley looked like he was about to burst into tears, he was afraid to speak up but also afraid to disobey McGonagall's words, so under the gaze of countless eyes, he finally spoke again.

"I-I as- asked why don't we resist to- together and Hen- Henderson went and told Caretaker righ- right away, the-"

He burst into tears, the sobs interrupting his narrative, but there was no one to urge him on.

It was only after a minute or so had passed that McGonagall spoke in a hushed voice.

"And then what?"

"Then, then Caretaker Dolohov hung me in his office, stripped me naked and whipped me on the back."

"Your hand was broken at that time?"

"Yes, it was."

"And after enduring Dolohov's punishment."

"Hender- Henderson... he was verbally abused too, so he got angry. Then he started beating me, he kicked me in the head, cursed me, stomped on my broken arm, and he said it was all because of me that the pureblood lord chastised him"

"Is the back of your arm healed?" McGonagall took a deep breath before proceeding to ask.

"Arm. It's never going to get better" he was in tears, but it was obvious that he was holding back, holding back his sobbing voice from bursting out.

The crowd below the stage was silent, and the muggle-borns who had been rescued from the castle had their heads bowed. They, too, had heard Riley's account, and many of them were even aware of these things, and no one knew exactly what kind of expression was now on their faces.

For a while, the only sound in the square was Riley's suppressed sobs.

"Is there more?" McGonagall continued to ask.

Riley sniffled, it was like he was a bit broken, the words had been said before and the outcome would be the same later whether he said them or not.

"There was also the case the year before last after all the underclassmen had been rescued from the castle. All the mudbloods that remained, the mud- muggle-borns were chastised, and Henderson was angry, furious, because Administrator Dolohov was gone, and he was the one who backed him up, he was the one who promoted him. He started hitting me, also hitting Kerouk, Dodger, and Heath, but hitting me the hardest, then then then he kicked me in the lower part of my body! I passed out from the pain and when I woke up, there was no round thing down there! Henderson didn't have the guts to take me to the hospital wing and report it to the others and was also afraid I would bleed to death like that, so he used a spell and stopped the bleeding, but, but I am no longer a whole man! Oooooooooo."

As if he finally couldn't repress it, his whole being fell down completely and cried out!

Riley sat down limply and the only sounds in the square were his sobs and a few unintroduced whimpers from the corner.

The tragic situation of the people around them was more evocative of their own experiences than what had happened to Assia, or to the adult muggle-borns who had been murdered, as read out from the parchment.

Riley was a prime example of this, but not the only victim!

At this point the vast majority of the muggle-borns had their heads down, even though they felt the sadness and the pain welling up in their hearts, they did not dare to show it openly.

McGonagall, as the presiding judge, looked at Riley, who was crying and hugging his head, and at the muggle-born children below, who had to hide their grief even now, and she could not read the words on the parchment.

So Flitwick took over the rest of the proceedings, and McGonagall pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped the tears from her eyes, even though she had read all of this many times.

"Wasn't there another girl named Mayawati Andersson who started the same year as you?"

Riley's nose and eyes were streaming with snot and tears as he gasped for breath while his voice muffled in reply.

"Yes."

"And then why she isn't here now?"

Riley's eyes suddenly showed extreme fear as his body trembled, and he sat down on the ground, covering his face and crying anew, looking like he wouldn't be able to answer Flitwick's question for sure no matter what.

Flitwick knew the end of the girl, and with that death grip on the hand that held the parchment, he gritted his teeth and shouted out the name of one of the muggle students with a renewed vigour.

"Clammy Shepherd, you answer! No need to go up on stage, just be in your seat and say out loud what happened to that Miss Andersson right now!"

The girl whose name was called was incredibly pale, and her body trembled as she rose from her seat.

"She, she was ill, very ill."

"Did she die of illness?"

"That's what the professor up there, they said."

"But what about the real story?"

"The truth." Her lips quivered as if she was afraid and unsure how to speak anyway.

"Tell everyone, tell everyone, about that classmate of yours, what happened to her?" Flitwick asked, incredibly serious, with a raised voice.

"She was, she was very ill! But when the new caretaker, who had taken over Mr Dolohov, was about to take her to the hospital wing! A-At that time, but Henderson he, he was the one who said that the lives of mudbloods were worthless and that over at Professor Carrow's side. They-re's a shortage of teaching material up there!"

It was almost as if she had gathered all her courage to shout the words out as she closed her eyes! Tears were flowing out of her eyes!

"Andersson was sent to Professor Carrow! She never came back! Never again! Henderson was appreciated by the new caretaker for this and was kept on to be the head boy who managed us all!"

When this was told, it seemed to stir up the pain of all the muggle-born present who had been suppressing their numbness!

They did not suppress their sobs, they did not keep their heads down, everyone was crying, everyone was muttering about the pain they had suffered, everyone was confessing what they had seen, what they had experienced, what they had been unable to prevent all these years!

And it was in the midst of this weeping that the wagon students, and the half-bloods who had been brought over from Britain, who were then in a somewhat depressing mood, were able to realize.

This public trial (show trial) never had been just about purebloods.

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