When Tom and Mr. Weasley arrived together at Wizengamot Courtroom Seven on the tenth floor, Dumbledore and Harry were still waiting outside the door.
Seeing Tom appear, Harry hurried over with a worried look: "Tom, where did you go? We were so worried when we couldn't find you."
Tom immediately repeated to Harry the same excuse he had given Mr. Weasley.
Harry let out a long sigh of relief after hearing it: "Thank goodness, thank goodness, I'm glad you're alright. You had us so worried."
From an angle Harry couldn't see, Dumbledore was looking at Tom with a faint smile, clearly not believing Tom's explanation.
Tom returned his smile indifferently. It was just an excuse, something both parties understood, so why say more?
Dumbledore, as a witness and Sirius's representative, left early to prepare. Tom and Harry followed Mr. Weasley, pushing open the door and entering the courtroom.
On the tiered seats on both sides, observers were scattered, taking their places. The number was small, clearly indicating that Fudge had not allowed public opinion to ferment and generate heat.
Scanning the room, Tom pulled Harry to sit next to a woman in the front row with long golden curls and jewel-encrusted glasses.
Noticing someone sitting next to her, the woman looked up and saw that one of them was Harry Potter. Just as she was about to approach him for a scoop, she heard the boy sitting next to her whisper in a voice only they could hear: "Rita Skeeter, Animagus, beetle, talk."
At the four words, Rita Skeeter was completely stunned. She lowered her voice and asked quietly: "Who are you? How do you know? And what do you want to talk about?"
"This isn't a good place to talk. You know how to find me, we'll talk then." With that, Tom said no more.
Seeing Tom say nothing more, Rita Skeeter got up and moved to a seat far away from Tom.
Harry looked at Rita Skeeter's strange behavior and quietly asked Tom: "What's wrong with her?"
Tom casually fabricated: "This chair is broken, the seat has thorns that poked her backside, so she moved."
"???" Harry was full of questions, looking at the smooth and clean seat.
Just as Tom thought the trial could begin, another annoying fellow plopped down next to him.
Dense dark gray hair, a scarred face, a missing piece of his nose, and that constantly moving magical eye. This appearance, enough to make children cry, immediately revealed his identity, and his first words were instantly irritating.
"Evil Slytherin brat!"
Even Cassandra called Tom the Great Dark Lord. How could he be called an evil Slytherin brat by a mere Moody? This was unbearable!
Tom didn't humor him and immediately retorted: "Oh, let me see who this is."
"Ah, isn't this our former greatest Auror—Mr. Alastor Moody?"
"Why is a retired old man like you not resting at home? Why are you here? Could it be to find me, this evil Slytherin brat?"
"Oh no, please don't. What if you twist your back or hurt your arm and blame me, this poor, young, helpless evil Slytherin brat? I can't afford that."
In terms of sarcasm, who in all of Hogwarts could surpass a Slytherin? Under Tom's barrage, Moody was already pounding the ground with his cane.
Just as Moody was about to retort, Tom's barrage continued: "However, how did our great Mr. Moody conclude that I, this Slytherin brat, am evil? Do you have proof?"
"If Mr. Moody cannot provide proof, then it's a coincidence, as we are in the courtroom today. How about after the interrogation of Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, I request an investigation into former Auror Mr. Moody for baseless slander and harm against a first-year Hogwarts Wizard?"
"Of course, I also don't mind using other means to protect my rights, such as a Wizard's duel. What do you think?"
Saying this, Tom pulled out his wand and performed a dueling bow to Moody, his wand tip pointed directly at him.
This whole sequence flowed smoothly, leaving an observing Harry in awe.
Moody, on the other hand, had never been treated with such disrespect by a first-year brat in his entire life. He immediately pulled out his wand and pointed it back at Tom.
Seeing the situation escalate, with many people already looking their way, the good-natured Mr. Arthur Weasley had to step in to mediate.
"Tom, put your wand down first. Moody didn't mean it."
"And Moody, really. Who just starts by calling someone an evil brat? You're an old man, don't get into arguments with children."
As Mr. Weasley mediated, Tom heard a "click" of a camera shutter. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Rita Skeeter in the distance retracting her camera, her dark green Quick-Quotes Quill scribbling furiously on parchment.
Seeing this, Tom gave her an approving nod, then was the first to retract his wand, saying to Mr. Weasley: "I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, I was really too impulsive. Please don't blame Mr. Moody, it's me, it's me, this orphan without parents, who is too ill-mannered, which made Mr. Moody angry. I can apologize, really, as long as he can forgive me..."
By the end, he even squeezed out a few crocodile tears.
He, Tom, also understood a little about 'tea art'.
This made Moody even more uncomfortable. He huffily changed seats and went to sulk by himself.
Just as the drama between Tom and Moody concluded, the small side door of the courtroom opened.
Cornelius Fudge, accompanied by a short-haired gray Witch wearing a monocle, and a Wizard who looked like an old lion, walked in first and sat on the highest stool in the center.
More than a dozen Wizengamot members in crimson robes followed, taking their seats on either side.
Tom, sitting in the observation gallery, silently matched the images of the Wizard and Witch on the central high stools with their roles.
'Amelia Susan Bones, and Rufus Scrimgeour, the two most principled people in the Ministry of Magic outside of the Order of the Phoenix. It seems this interrogation won't have any major issues.'
"Bring Peter Pettigrew."
As Bones's wooden gavel fell, the side door opened, and many people in the room already showed expressions of disgust and fear. Harry felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, and if Tom hadn't been holding him, he would have almost collapsed.
Two cloaked, rotting creatures, with scabbed hands, carried a short, bald Wizard towards the central armchair.
"What are those things?" Harry asked Tom, shivering.
"Dementors!" Tom replied flatly.
After the Dementors pressed Peter Pettigrew into the central chair and locked him with golden chains, they floated out of the room.
The interrogation officially began.