"This, this is impossible, I didn't write this! That's not my writing!" Lucius still protested vehemently.
Murphy shrugged his shoulders, facing the people on the tribunal, "Everyone has seen the two letters, I believe you have a basic judgment in your hearts."
The wizards on the tribunal were whispering to each other in a noisy discussion.
No one stopped them, and Murphy let them discuss.
If possible, Murphy hoped they could directly use this "evidence" to determine Lucius's guilt.
Although, this evidence was actually forged by him.
The second letter demanding payment did exist; Murphy had seen it years earlier, but it had long since been lost. What he showed just now, like the first one, was completely a counterfeit made by a Muggle expert in forging documents.
After all, Lucius's handwriting was easy to find, and for those document forgery experts, imitating handwriting and aging paper were just basic operations.
But these techniques, in a world with extremely convenient magic, were very rare.
Murphy was betting on the fact that wizards don't have document authentication experts.
However, he might have been too confident.
"Murphy," suddenly, a gentle voice sounded, "Where did you find these two letters?"
Murphy instantly became nervous because the person who asked was the last person he wanted to face, Dumbledore.
"Uh, in an old chest in my family's old house."
"Hmm, and specifically, where in the house?"
Murphy frowned, "On the second floor, in an old chest."
Dumbledore nodded again, "Is there a river near your old home?"
Hmm? What kind of question is this? What does this have to do with the letter? Murphy was completely confused. What did the headmaster mean? Did he have some magic to judge the authenticity of the letter? But what does it have to do with whether there's a river or not? Unable to discern the correct answer to this question, Murphy could only answer truthfully: "No, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded as if he had received his answer, then said, "Merely based on the few words in this letter, we may find it difficult to judge the true intentions of the writer. If we convict the person involved based solely on this letter, I think, he certainly won't accept it."
"Murphy, you just said you have two pieces of evidence. What is the other one? Rufus told me that you also accused Lucius of engaging in dangerous activities. Is your second piece of evidence related to this?"
Murphy swallowed.
He suddenly regretted making things so big. Had he known, he wouldn't have escalated the situation this much. Just reporting some other misdeeds of Lucius would have been enough to achieve his goal.
He had no idea about the existence of some purification act, nor did he expect his report to draw Dumbledore's attention.
Otherwise, he would have made these pieces of evidence look more convincing!
However, there's no turning back an arrow once it's been shot. At this point, he couldn't afford to back down.
"Yes, Professor."
Murphy said and looked at Lucius, "Lucius, a friend told me that you have many dark magic items hidden in your house, all neatly arranged on shelves in your cellar, safely protected under glass domes."
"He also told me that one of these dark magic items is different from the others."
As he spoke, Murphy slowly put on a glove on his right hand.
"Because, it was a gift from the Dark Lord."
He pulled out a black-covered notebook from his chest with that hand.
"Lucius, you know what this is, right?"
Hearing Murphy's earlier description, Lucius was already panicked, but when he actually saw the notebook, he felt as if all his strength had been drained, almost collapsing.
How could this be? How did he know so much about the cellar? How did he get that diary? Wasn't it supposed to have been burned along with the other things? Could it be... that day he broke into his house, not for the Muggles, but for it?
Was his intention from the start to doom him? Lucius was terrified.
The Dark Lord's diary, imbued with strong dark magic, was clearly a dark magic item. Once proven to belong to the Dark Lord, his identity as a Death Eater would almost certainly be confirmed.
"No! I don't recognize it! That's not mine!"
However, as soon as he said this, Lucius saw the smile on Murphy's face.
"Oh?" The youth smiled as if waiting for his response.
"You're lying," the youth asserted confidently.
Then he faced the tribunal, "I request the summoning of a witness, the house-elf Dobby."
"Clang!" Lucius really couldn't hold on any longer, his body softened and he slumped in the cage, oblivious even to the spikes piercing his back.
The house-elf was brought in by two Aurors, each holding an arm.
"Dobby, I command you to stop..." Lucius suddenly let out a hoarse and exhausted shout, but before he could finish his command, Dumbledore made a closing gesture with his right hand, gently swiping sideways, and Lucius's mouth automatically shut as if zipped up.
"Silence! Lucius. Here it is not your servant, but a witness. You shall not interfere with the witness's testimony."
"Thank you, Professor," Murphy bowed slightly to Dumbledore.
That magic of silencing just now was really cool.
"Dobby." Murphy looked at the house-elf, "You don't need to be nervous, we're just asking you a few questions. Just answer truthfully."
"Dobby... Dobby..." Dobby glanced at Lucius in the cage, looked around at the wizards on the tribunal, and suddenly rushed toward the podium, hitting his head on it.
Murphy was shocked and quickly reached out to block him, but the house-elf's head hit his hand on the podium, feeling as if his bones were about to break.
He pulled Dobby up, grabbed the torn pillowcase, and hoisted him into the air, "Are you crazy?!"
"Bad Dobby, bad Dobby... sob..."
The house-elf actually started crying.
Clearly, he had realized that these people were going to make him do something detrimental to his master.
Murphy was furious and slapped him, "Cry for what?!"
He glared fiercely at Dobby, "I'll tell you again, I ask questions, you answer truthfully. If you dare to lie, your master and his entire family will go to Azkaban! Do you hear me?! Do you understand?!"
"Sob, hit me, kill Dobby, Dobby can't do anything to betray his master, Dobby is a bad house-elf, Dobby might as well die..."
"..."
Damn.
Murphy was speechless. This creature might really have been scared too much, and clearly didn't respond to threats.
He put Dobby down and looked helplessly at Dumbledore.
Headmaster, could you help?