bacchusnovels Chapter 275 Scrimgeour Out of Control
Chapter 275 Scrimgeour Out of Control
Chapter 275 Scrimgeour Out of Control
"Are you done yet, Mr. Phillips? Time is running out." Auror's urging voice came from outside the restroom.
For a long time, there was no sound from the cubicle.
The two Aurors exchanged a glance, a hint of impatience and suspicion flashing in each other's eyes.
Auror, who was standing at the door, raised his hand again and knocked on the cubicle door, his tone becoming more serious: "Mr. Phillips, time is of the essence, please return to the hearing."
There was still no response, only the sound of running water and slight noises from inside the cubicle.
"Something's strange," another Auror muttered under his breath, then reached for his wand at his waist, his eyes sharpening. "I don't like this silence."
Suddenly, a soft "click" broke the silence in the restroom as the stall door slowly opened.
Sean came out from inside with a polite smile on his face, his hands folded in front of him, looking perfectly normal.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Sean said gently.
The two Aurors remained wary, but they said nothing and silently led Sean back to the courtroom.
As their footsteps echoed on the stone floor, the atmosphere inside the courtroom grew increasingly heavy.
Upon entering the courtroom, all eyes were once again focused on Sean.
Amelia stared at him coldly, tapping her gavel lightly once, the sound unusually crisp in the silent courtroom.
"Mr. Phillips," she began, "you claim to have another wand and are willing to show it. Now, please produce it."
Sean maintained his usual smile and slowly took a wand out of his pocket.
However... this wand looks exactly the same as the wand Ollivander showed us before.
"This is my wand." He raised his hand, showing it to everyone. "I never lost it. The wand found at the crime scene wasn't mine."
The entire courtroom erupted in uproar, and murmurs of discussion once again filled the room.
Scringer frowned, clearly surprised by the change.
"We need to verify the authenticity of this wand," Amelia said, her voice devoid of any emotion. She gestured for Ollivander to step forward again.
Ollivander stepped forward slowly and gently took the wand from Sean.
He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on every detail of the wand's surface, his brow furrowing slightly.
The initial examination was unusually slow. Ollivander's fingers slid delicately across the wand, repeatedly tracing the wood grain with his thumb and forefinger, as if trying to discern every subtle difference.
He would sometimes squint, sometimes raise the wand to his eyes, and even sniff the wand with the tip of his nose, a subtle confusion gradually appearing on his face.
The courtroom was eerily quiet, all eyes fixed on the experienced wandmaker, eager for him to reveal the truth.
However, Ollivander's expression grew increasingly complicated, and his movements became slower and slower, as if the more he examined the object, the more questions arose in his mind.
He first compared the wand's length with the previous record, confirming that it indeed matched the previous dimensions. Then, he gently tapped the wand's surface, listening to the almost inaudible echo, his confusion deepening. Next, he took out a small metal tool and meticulously examined the wand's internal structure, his brow furrowing even more deeply.
His breathing gradually became rapid, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Whenever his fingers touched a particular spot, a hint of hesitation and doubt would flash in his eyes, as if he were facing a mystery he could not explain.
Suddenly, he stopped, straightened up, looked up at Sean, and his gaze held a hint of incomprehension and doubt.
He looked down again, continuing to examine the wand, and even used a small illuminating charm.
This time, his hand trembled slightly, as if startled by something.
After checking again, he finally slowly put down his wand, took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked at Amelia with a complicated expression.
"This wand," he said softly, his voice filled with indescribable confusion, "is almost exactly the same as the previous wand in terms of material, feel, and core."
He paused, as if organizing his thoughts, before continuing, "These two wands are indeed from the same pair of hands, both made by my father. But—from their appearance to their texture, they are almost indistinguishable. I have no way of explaining why they are replicas of the same wand. It's simply an incredible coincidence."
A slight commotion arose in the courtroom; everyone was shocked by the conclusion.
Ollivander turned around and looked at Amelia with a complicated expression: "I have never encountered such a situation before, two wands that look exactly the same, yet it is impossible to tell whether they are real or fake."
He shook his head helplessly and added, "These two wands not only look identical, but the traces of their magical fluctuations are also almost indistinguishable. This is indeed—puzzling."
"Perhaps my father accidentally made two identical wands back then?" Ollivander murmured to himself.
There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, clearly indicating that he himself was not entirely sure about it.
Then he frowned, shook his head and muttered to himself, "But even so, the wand should still be able to show some subtle differences."
The courtroom fell silent as everyone processed this inexplicable conclusion.
Sean maintained his composed smile, while Scrimgeour's face was terribly grim.
He was clearly angry and dissatisfied with Ollivander's conclusions.
How... is this possible?
Suddenly, Scrinje slammed his hand on the table, the sound echoing in the courtroom and startling everyone.
"This is impossible!" he said through gritted teeth, his gaze piercing Sean like a sword. "Two wands, how can they be so identical? This is an insult to our intelligence!"
He turned to Amelia and said urgently, "Director Burns, we cannot believe his sophistry based on this alone! The similarity of the wands might be a tactic of dark magic. This does not prove his innocence!"
Hearing Scrimgeour's words, not only Amelia, but also the audience in the stands, and even the impartial jury, began to look at Scrimgeour with a strange gaze.
On what grounds?
Why does Scrinker readily accept evidence when it is in his favor, but rush to deny it or even question the evidence itself when it is not?
This blatant double standard angered many people present.
A middle-aged wizard in the audience muttered under his breath, "Why is it that every piece of evidence that is in his favor is considered true, but when it is not, it is labeled as 'a trick of dark magic'?" Although his voice was not loud, the wizards nearby nodded in agreement.
"Yes, that's incredibly biased," another wizard whispered. "We're here to find the truth, not to see who gets angry first."
Amelia frowned, clearly also bewildered by this unprecedented situation.
She paused for a moment, her gaze shifting between Sean and Scrimgeour.
Scrimgeour's anger was palpable, while Sean remained calm and composed, seemingly in complete control of the situation.
"Director Scrimgeour," Amelia finally spoke, her voice still calm but with a hint of warning, "I understand your concerns, but we cannot draw conclusions lightly without solid evidence. Mr. Ollivander is an authority in the wand world, and his conclusions are undoubtedly worthy of attention."
She turned to Ollivander, her tone still serious: "Mr. Ollivander, is there any possibility of discerning the true difference between these two wands? Perhaps, by tracing their magical traces?"
Ollivander pondered for a moment, then shook his head.
In fact, there is a spell called "trace" that can do this.
However, it only works on wizards under the age of seventeen, and automatically stops working once a wizard or witch turns seventeen. There is no instance of the Threads working on an adult.
Seeing Ollivander shake his head, Scrimgeour could no longer remain calm. He abruptly stood up, took a few steps forward, and stared at Sean with almost menacing eyes: "What methods did you use? Did you think you could escape punishment with these tricks?"
Sean calmly raised his eyes, meeting Scrimgeour's gaze with composure, his tone utterly relaxed and devoid of any tension: "Director Scrimgeour, I am simply an innocent man. It is you who are desperately searching for evidence to frame me, not me who is covering up the truth."
Scrimgeour's face grew even darker, his anger almost uncontrollable. He stared fiercely at Sean, hoping to find a clue in his expression.
But Sean's composure and calmness made his doubts seem futile.
The atmosphere in the courtroom became tense for a moment, and the whispers of the audience began again.
Clearly, Scrimgeour's aggressive approach and Sean's calm reaction contrasted sharply, leading many to question whether Scrimgeour's motives were pure.
At that moment, Ayers, standing in the witness stand, spoke up...