1991, London
"Mr. Roger Virgil, your trial is about to begin. Please come with us."
The voice was cold, clipped, and devoid of emotion. The lead Auror's expression mirrored his tone—stern, professional, and bureaucratic. Yet, despite his outward calm, his slightly trembling pupils betrayed a flicker of unease. He, like everyone else, had heard the rumors surrounding this peculiar case. A child, barely eleven, standing trial as if he were some notorious criminal from Azkaban. It was an unprecedented situation.
Roger took a deep breath, steadying himself. So, the day has finally arrived. There was no use in resisting. Any reckless defiance would only worsen his already dire circumstances. His fate was no longer in his hands; all he could do now was meet it head-on.
He rose from the cot in his cell and walked towards the heavy iron door, his posture composed despite the turmoil inside him. The four Aurors flanking him maintained a rigid formation, surrounding him as though escorting a dark wizard of the highest order rather than an eleven-year-old who had yet to set foot in Hogwarts.
Roger studied their faces as they marched through the dim corridors. He could see the tension in their eyes, the wariness in their every movement. Fear? Distrust? Perhaps a mixture of both. He was used to such reactions by now.
As they neared the trial chamber, Roger's thoughts drifted back over the past six months—the events that had led him to this moment.
He hadn't always been Roger Virgil.
Once, he had been an ordinary man, living a mundane life in a peaceful country under the red flag. Then, fate had played its cruelest trick. An accident had taken his life, and when he had opened his eyes again, he found himself inhabiting the body of a ten-year-old boy.
At first, the shock had been overwhelming. Blonde hair, blue eyes—a far cry from his previous self. But the real surprise wasn't his new appearance or even the fact that he had traveled back in time. No, what truly unsettled him was where he had been reborn.
Not in some familiar, safe corner of the world. Not even in the rolling green landscapes of Britain, the country to which his new identity belonged. Instead, he had found himself in a land on the brink of chaos, teetering on the edge of one of the most significant conflicts of the late 20th century.
Kuwait.
The year? 1990.
The nightmare began on August 2nd.
At precisely 1:00 AM, the Iraqi Republican Guard, with the full might of their air force, navy, and special operations units, launched a brutal surprise attack on Kuwait. Three divisions stormed across the border, overwhelming the small nation in mere hours. The world would later call it Operation Invasion of Kuwait, but for Roger, it was the day his new life shattered before it even had a chance to begin.
By the time the sun rose, Kuwait City had fallen.
The streets had become battlegrounds. Soldiers and tanks paraded through neighborhoods that had once been peaceful. Chaos reigned. And in the midst of it all, Roger's new parents—an engineer father and a mother from a wealthy British merchant family—were caught in the crossfire.
He could still remember it vividly.
His mother's screams. His father's desperate shouts. The scent of blood, thick and metallic, filling the air as their bodies crumpled beside him. He had been too weak to fight, too young to understand why it was happening. He had only known terror, grief, and the cold, damp sensation of his parents' blood seeping into his skin as he lay there, paralyzed.
And then, darkness.
When he woke again, he was no longer in Kuwait. He was in Britain—alive, but under scrutiny. The wizarding world had taken an interest in him. Why? That remained a mystery, though Roger had his suspicions.
The Ministry of Magic had detained him almost immediately, treating him not as a victim but as an anomaly. The questions were relentless, their expressions skeptical. How had he survived the invasion unscathed? Why had no records of his magical abilities surfaced before? What exactly had happened that night in Kuwait?
No matter how much he tried to explain, his answers only seemed to deepen their mistrust. His knowledge—far beyond what any child should possess—had unsettled them. And so, he had been locked away, awaiting judgment.
Now, standing before the massive doors of the trial chamber, Roger inhaled deeply. The Aurors exchanged uneasy glances before one of them pushed open the doors, revealing a vast, dimly lit courtroom.
At the far end, a panel of stern-faced wizards and witches sat elevated above the rest, their gazes piercing. The Wizengamot. Roger recognized them from the books he had read during his confinement. They were the highest judicial authority in the British wizarding world.
As he stepped forward, whispers rippled through the courtroom. He caught fragments of their murmurs:
"So young…"
"And yet, look at him."
"Could he really be a threat?"
He ignored them, keeping his expression neutral. His heart pounded, but he refused to let them see his fear.
The chief interrogator, a sharp-eyed witch with silver streaks in her hair, raised her wand and cleared her throat.
"Roger Virgil," she announced, her voice carrying through the chamber. "You stand accused of being an anomaly in our world. Before we proceed, tell us—who are you?"
Roger lifted his head, meeting her gaze head-on. He had expected this question.
He just hadn't yet decided on his answer.
Roger Virgil did not want to become just another statistic—one of the 500,000 children whose deaths would be attributed to war and sanctions, as recorded by the United Nations Children's Fund. He refused to be a sacrifice, another nameless casualty in the brutal game of geopolitics.
The sheer, unrelenting will to survive had driven him to extraordinary lengths. Through near-death experiences and moments of sheer desperation, he had carved out a path for himself amidst the chaos. And that path was…
Impersonating a religious prophet.
The words rang out in the dimly lit courtroom, delivered in an unwavering voice by the young wizard who was listing Roger's crimes.
"Displaying and promoting the existence of magic before Muggles. Using magic on Muggles. Indirectly causing the deaths of Muggles with the power of magic. Intervening in wars between Muggles…" The wizard paused before continuing, his tone sharp. "Any one of these offenses, when weighed, is considered a serious crime."
Roger sat still, absorbing each charge. He knew what he had done. But had he truly had a choice?
"Will I die?" he asked, his voice steady.
Beyond the heavy wooden door, the Auror guard stood like a silent sentinel. Inside, sitting across from him, was the man who claimed to be his lawyer. Of course, Roger had not hired him—he lacked the means to do so. This wizard had been assigned to him, a formality, a cog in the bureaucratic machinery of the Ministry of Magic.
"Most likely not," the lawyer admitted. "Your crimes are severe, but the circumstances surrounding them are… complicated. Even under normal conditions, sentencing an eleven-year-old child to death would cause an uproar."
He leaned forward, his voice lowering slightly. "And right now, they won't easily pass such a judgment."
Roger frowned. "Why?"
"It's political," the lawyer explained. "The Minister of Magic—Cornelius Fudge—only took office last year. His position is far from secure. To maintain stability, he frequently consults Headmaster Dumbledore on major decisions, using Dumbledore's influence to reinforce his own authority. Fudge is cautious; he cannot afford internal strife."
Roger listened intently as the lawyer continued.
"Your case, despite being tried under the British Ministry of Magic, has attracted international attention. The Magical Congress of the United States has expressed concern, and the Middle Eastern magical factions are also involved. Given the high-profile nature of this case, Fudge will undoubtedly seek Dumbledore's counsel before rendering any decision."
The lawyer hesitated before adding, "And, given Dumbledore's history, it is highly unlikely he would ever recommend the death penalty."
A faint spark of hope flickered in Roger's chest, but the lawyer swiftly extinguished it with a grim shake of his head.
"Don't be too quick to celebrate." His tone turned grave. "Though you may avoid execution, what awaits you could be worse than death."
Roger understood the implication. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.
"…Azkaban?"
The very name sent a chill through the air.
Azkaban—the fortress prison of the British wizarding world, guarded by the wraith-like Dementors. A place where inmates were stripped of happiness, their minds forced to relive their worst memories over and over until they broke. A place where men entered as prisoners and left as hollow shells, if they left at all.
Most criminals feared the Dementors more than any punishment the Ministry could devise. Azkaban did not just contain its prisoners; it consumed them.
The lawyer exhaled heavily. "Most likely."
Roger's mind raced. He had survived a war, escaped death, and endured unimaginable hardships. He had fought tooth and nail to live. And now they wanted to send him to Azkaban?
He clenched his fists. "Is there any way to avoid it? Not an acquittal—just a lesser sentence. I'd take being detained in a regular holding facility over Azkaban."
The lawyer's expression turned grim. "The odds aren't in your favor. Your charges are too severe." He hesitated. "Unless…"
Roger didn't speak. He simply waited, knowing the lawyer would continue.
"Unless Dumbledore himself is willing to vouch for you," the lawyer finally admitted. "But that's nearly impossible, and you know why."
Roger remained silent, but his mind churned with possibilities.
There was an old saying in the British wizarding legal system: The outcome of a trial is not decided in the courtroom, but outside it.
Roger Virgil would not surrender to fate. He had survived a war. Now, he had to survive this.
Although laws and regulations may be explicitly written down, society itself is not fundamentally built upon law — a notion often promoted by legal scholars but ultimately far from reality. In truth, it is society that gives rise to the law, and the law is merely a reflection of the structure, needs, and desires of society at any given time. The laws of the Ministry of Magic, like any other legal framework, are created and enforced by the Ministry itself, with their implementation secured through the authority and coercive force wielded by the Ministry's officials. These laws are not neutral; rather, they reflect the interests of the ruling class, which, in this case, is shaped by specific social and material living conditions. The laws, therefore, serve to confirm, protect, and uphold the relationships and social order that benefit the ruling elite.
To put it in simple terms, the Ministry of Magic's laws exist to maintain the social order that serves the interests of those in power within the wizarding world. The Ministry, despite its outward appearance of authority and dominance, is not the true center of power in wizarding society. While it may seem to be the supreme governing body, the real control over resources and power lies in the hands of ancient, established wizarding families, such as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, whose deep-rooted wealth and influence far outweigh the Ministry's authority. Additionally, there are the powerful wizards and influential figures like Albus Dumbledore, Newt Scamander, and Nicolas Flamel, whose expertise, reputation, and power grant them real sway over the direction of society. These individuals are the true ruling class in the wizarding world.
The Ministry of Magic, in this context, is little more than an administrative body composed of middle-ranking wizards who act as caretakers of the societal structure. Even the Minister of Magic, despite their formal position, is not free to act on their own accord. Any significant decision made by the Ministry must first be discussed and approved by the representatives of powerful pure-blood families or influential wizards. The Minister's power, therefore, is not absolute; it is contingent on the backing of these influential forces. When a Minister's own authority is insufficient to maintain order or push through a decision, they often seek the endorsement of respected figures like Dumbledore to legitimize their actions. Only with such support can they expect to command their subordinates and enforce their will.
The real power in wizarding society, therefore, lies not with the Ministry or its bureaucrats, but with these powerful figures who stand outside the formal structures of governance. They are the unacknowledged rulers, the "uncrowned kings" of the wizarding world, whose influence is so far-reaching that even the law itself must bend to their will. Everyone respects them, and everyone must respect them. The law, no matter how codified or written, cannot oppose the sway of these powerful wizards.
In this context, the lawyer reflected on the case at hand. Roger, accused of using magic to indirectly cause the deaths of a large number of Muggles, faced a difficult situation. While Roger's actions could be framed as self-defense — as he was only trying to protect himself — the sheer scale of his actions was problematic. Over the course of the past six months of war, Roger had killed nearly a hundred people directly, and many more indirectly. It was a staggering figure. As the lawyer pondered these numbers, they couldn't help but compare them to the actions of the Death Eaters in Azkaban, who had followed the Dark Lord and killed countless people. Had they even killed as many as Roger had?
The question lingered in the lawyer's mind: how much had Roger truly crossed the line? The severity of his actions weighed heavily on the lawyer's thoughts, but even more pressing was the fact that powerful figures like Dumbledore had the potential to shape the outcome of this case, just as they shaped the laws and norms of the wizarding world. In the end, it was not only the law that mattered — it was the social forces, the influential wizards, and the powerful families that ultimately determined how the law would be applied. And with that realization came the unsettling thought: if Dumbledore, with his considerable power and influence, chose to protect Roger, the case could turn out far differently than anyone had expected.