The Ministry of Magic rose like a shadowed cathedral beneath London, its cavernous halls hidden from the world above by powerful enchantments and centuries of secrecy. The air inside buzzed faintly with layered magic, charms woven into the very stonework, bureaucratic spells humming from parchment towers and brass-enchanted lifts. Dark polished floors reflected torchlight and wandlight alike, casting a mirrored world below the feet of the witches and wizards moving briskly between departments.
Ethan stood near one of the wide golden fireplaces, his mother at his side, as a crowd passed them in thickening waves. Men in scarlet robes shouted orders to junior Aurors. Clerks in navy-blue cloaks darted by with arms full of scrolls and lawbooks. Magical creatures and their handlers filed into a side corridor marked Beast Division. Conversations overlapped and echoed like water in a vault, cases about werewolf legislation, arguments over portkey access, memos being chased by frantic interns.
Ethan said nothing, absorbing the flow of motion around him. The Ministry was far more vast than he had imagined from books and whispers. Its ceilings arched like ancient cathedrals, and its walls pulsed with subtle enchantments that felt older than the very stones of Hogwarts.
"This way," His mother said, guiding him through the wide atrium, past a fountain depicting a witch raising a wand over a goblin and centaur. It made Ethan's lip twitch faintly. The Ministry's self-image was as lofty as it was selective.
They passed through two layers of security, enchanted gates that scanned for concealed objects, and a low-voiced charm that verified identity.
Down a hallway flanked by golden plaques they walked, until they reached the Courtroom Annex. Already, people were gathering, some dressed in formal robes bearing departmental crests, others plainly curious witches and wizards who had managed to acquire observation passes. Murmured conversations floated in the air like dust motes.
"Are you nervous?" Lady Wright asked.
"No," Ethan replied. "Just curious. Ive never been in the Ministry before. Especially for a trial."
He meant it. This was the culmination of weeks of quiet preparation, whispered conversations at home, and deliberate patience. He had never seen a formal magical trial before. And certainly not one involving a man like Gilderoy Lockhart.
They entered the courtroom through tall mahogany doors inlaid with silver. Inside, the air shifted, cooler, quieter. The room was a large amphitheater carved from grey stone, walls lined with enchanted torches that burned blue and cold. The audience gallery climbed in a circle around the central floor, where a single chair, bound with iron and etched with glowing runes, waited.
Ethan and his mother took their seats near the front, close to where the Ministry officials sat. He immediately noticed familiar faces from his readings: a silver-bearded wizard he suspected was Tiberius Ogden, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with the resolute bearing of someone important, likely Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
And then… her.
Dolores Umbridge.
She sat near the front bench, draped in a revolting shade of pink that stood out like spilled potion against the grey stone. Her toadlike smile and puffed shoulders made her look more grotesque in person than Ethan had anticipated. She sipped tea from a kitten-covered cup, her gaze scanning the room with performative interest.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. If he hadn't already known who she was, he would've known just by looking.
He leaned toward his mother. "What's she doing here?"
"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," Lady Wright replied under her breath. "She attends all public trials of high interest. For now."
Ethan took that to mean she wouldn't forever. He hoped that was true.
Then his eyes drifted to the rows of press, ready to get firsthand information, Rita Skeeter among them. He wondered. Should he try and do something about her?
Rita was a toxic woman who shifted meanings in her released reports. That and the fact that she was an unregistered animagus made her worse. A form which allowed her to practically be a fly on the wall during any private conversation. A beetle.
Ethan did not want to ever interact with her. The way she twisted people's words against them was poisonous.
But the audience had all settled, and the blue flames dimmed slightly as heavy footsteps echoed beyond the far door. The enchanted chains on the central chair rattled softly in anticipation.
Gilderoy Lockhart was led into the room by two Aurors.
He looked… smaller than his photographs. His once-flamboyant robes were replaced with standard issue navy, his golden hair dimmed to a lifeless flax. Yet he still wore a weak approximation of his famous smile, a cracked, uneasy thing. His hands were bound with light magical restraints, and though he carried himself with as much flair as one could muster under arrest, his eyes darted, uncertain, as if calculating whether he could still charm his way out of this.
The murmurs grew as people leaned in. Ethan said nothing, eyes fixed on the man who had, until a few months ago, been a darling of the wizarding world. Author of seven books. Claimer of dozens of feats. Fraud in nearly all.
Lockhart was led to the central chair. The Aurors stepped back. The chains coiled tightly around his arms and legs, locking into place with a low clink of finality. He flinched.
A wizard at the highest bench rose.
"This court is now in session," he said, his voice amplified by magic. "The Wizengamot convenes under full authority of the Ministry of Magic to oversee the charges brought against one Gilderoy Francis Lockhart."
A ripple of sound, parchment shuffling.
"Mr. Lockhart stands accused of the following crimes," the wizard continued. "Unlawful use of the Memory Charm, Obliviate, on multiple individuals for the purpose of intellectual theft. Fraudulent claims in all seven of his published works. Defamation of verified witches and wizards whose heroic actions were falsified or omitted in said works. Unauthorized use of Ministry-classified records. Tampering with the historical archive. And endangerment of public understanding of defensive magic."
There was a long pause.
"Evidence submitted by Miss Chloe Wright of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement forms the foundation of this case. Witnesses will be summoned throughout the course of the trial. The accused may respond to each charge as they are presented."
Lockhart opened his mouth, but the presiding wizard raised a hand.
"Speak only when addressed, Mr. Lockhart."
Lockhart's jaw shut. His smile flickered again.
Ethan sat straighter. This was what he had waited for, not revenge, not spectacle, but the moment where reality cracked through the façade. Where the public image of Gilderoy Lockhart, the brave, grinning hero, was shattered beneath the truth.
The presiding wizard looked over the court, his voice echoing again.
"Let the trial commence!"