Douglas noticed the odd looks from those around him and cleared his throat softly.
"Ahem, Myrtle, please go on..."
Moaning Myrtle paused, her sobs fading as she straightened her posture and continued,
"Right, where was I... Oh, yes.
So, while I was crying, I suddenly heard someone come in. It was a boy's voice, but he sounded strange—like he was speaking another language.
But this is the girls' bathroom, so I was furious! I pushed open the door to yell at him, told him to go use the boys' bathroom, and then—"
Myrtle stopped abruptly, glancing at Minister Fudge with a self-important air, her face shining with pride.
Fudge, clearly irritated, snapped,
"And then what happened?"
Myrtle flipped her pigtails and declared,
"Then I died, of course... hee hee... I remember seeing these enormous, terrifying yellow eyes. My whole body felt like it was being lifted up, and then—well, I floated away.
Later, I came back—you know, I had to find Olive and give her a piece of my mind. She was very sorry for ever teasing me about my glasses."
Douglas asked calmly,
"Did the Ministry ever question you about what happened? Or did any Hogwarts professors ask?"
Myrtle looked a bit dazed.
"No, when I came back, everything was just like before..."
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall both looked guilty. After all, they'd already been at the school when this happened.
(Professor McGonagall only became a professor in 1956; before that, she worked in Transfiguration at Hogwarts, but was not yet a professor.)
The Ministry officials looked even more uncomfortable—after all, they were too young for this to be their own mistake, but it was a glaring error from their predecessors.
Standing off to the side, Lucius Malfoy had kept silent, unsure why Dumbledore had specifically named him, as a board member, to attend this meeting. But now was the perfect chance to curry favor with the Ministry. He glanced at the towering Hagrid, then sneered,
"So what? That doesn't prove certain people weren't involved. The Minister at the time made a perfectly fair decision."
Douglas shot Lucius a crooked smile.
"Mr. Malfoy, let's not jump to conclusions.
As I recall, the so-called 'monster' in the Ministry's ruling was a spider, wasn't it, Hagrid?"
Everyone froze. Hagrid hesitated, but when he caught Douglas's eye—remembering their earlier conversation—he nodded quickly.
"Yes, it was an Acromantula. I raised it from an egg. His name's Aragog—a sweet little thing back then, though he's rather big now.
He never hurt anyone. After the incident, he fled the castle. Said there was something here he was terrified of..."
Fudge exclaimed,
"Acromantula? Trading in Acromantulas is illegal—"
Hagrid nodded, clearly prepared for this.
"That's right.
So Hogwarts expelled me for keeping a dangerous creature. I don't blame the school—I was wrong.
But I never hurt anyone, so the Ministry shouldn't have broken my wand or banned me from using magic...
Here's the fine for illegal possession of Acromantula eggs—I've got it ready..."
With that, Hagrid fished out a bag of Galleons and tossed it to the still-stunned Fudge.
Douglas rubbed his forehead. He really shouldn't have expected Hagrid to handle the pacing. He should have established the true cause of death first, then accused the Ministry, proven there was no wrongdoing, and finally given the Ministry a way out by paying the fine.
(The Ministry of Magic has no authority to expel Hogwarts students, nor to confiscate or break wands unless the charges are proven.)
Professor McGonagall seemed to sense the trick and shot Douglas a glare.
Taking advantage of the confusion, Douglas turned to Newt Scamander.
"Professor, as an expert in magizoology, could you explain to everyone: do Acromantulas kill with their eyes?"
Newt, lost in thought about his own expulsion from Hogwarts, snapped to attention at the sound of his name.
"Ah—oh—of course. Acromantulas have black eyes. They attack with their huge pincers and fangs, and can secrete venom. Like this—"
He even mimed the attacking posture of an Acromantula.
Dumbledore added,
"There were no wounds found on the girl's body at the time."
A smile crept across Douglas's face as he turned to Minister Fudge.
"In summary, Myrtle's corpse is the biggest clue.
Acromantulas are dangerous, but their attacks are physical—webs, venom, fangs.
But as we know, anyone who makes eye contact with a basilisk dies instantly.
So the absence of any wounds on Myrtle's body is completely inconsistent with an Acromantula attack.
Minister Fudge, do you have any objections?"
He continued,
"Of course, this miscarriage of justice was the fault of the Minister from fifty years ago—it's not your responsibility.
What you can do is take this opportunity to show the public that today's Ministry is fair and just by acknowledging past mistakes. What do you say?"
Fudge studied Douglas, then glanced at Dumbledore. At last, he said,
"That's right. The Ministry of Magic is fair and just. The current evidence proves Hagrid's innocence.
I'm willing to apologize to Rubeus Hagrid on behalf of the Minister from fifty years ago, and declare him innocent.
There's no need for a Wizengamot trial. I'll deliver the paperwork to the Ministry and have the news published in the Daily Prophet.
We'll also continue to pursue the true culprit. If it's confirmed there's a basilisk in the Chamber, we'll track down the Parselmouth who controlled it fifty years ago and bring him to justice."
A few professors who knew the truth exchanged uneasy glances. Hagrid opened his mouth several times, but couldn't find the words.
Douglas smiled,
"As for the real culprit, we've already identified him. His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He's also known as—"
Lucius Malfoy's face twisted in panic. He hissed,
"Don't say it!"
But Douglas only glanced at him, then said slowly,
"Voldemort..."
A collective gasp swept the room. Lucius Malfoy visibly trembled, while Dobby, who had failed to obey his master's order to stay silent (having gasped aloud), was now punishing himself by banging his head on the floor.
Fudge glared furiously at Dumbledore.
"Albus, this isn't funny."
Dumbledore replied coolly,
"It's not a joke."
Fudge faltered, then protested,
"That man is dead... Well, he did claim to be Slytherin's heir. Parseltongue was the most obvious sign..."
After a moment to collect himself, Fudge finally regained his composure.
But Lucius's mind was in turmoil. He glanced between Dumbledore and Douglas, thinking bitterly that he should never have come today.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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