Professor Snape, though distracted, responded with a polite nod, at least by his own standards.
"Thank you for raising Allen; he has a vast knowledge of potions," Owen Harris said with sincere gratitude.
Without showing any desire to speak to Owen Harris, Professor Snape briefly replied, "This is entirely the result of his own diligent work."
Sensing the man's state of mind, the clever Owen smiled slightly and, together with Allen, politely bid Professor Snape farewell; he had successfully obtained the necessary permission for Allen to return home temporarily.
Owen involuntarily smiled slightly as he thought about his wife Morgan le Fay's excited and happy reaction when she saw Allen.
Allen had a wonderful night at home; the warm embrace of his family and the exquisite, delicious feast his mother had carefully prepared gave him incredible peace.
However, he was awakened early the next morning by his father Owen knocking on the door.
"Wake up, Allen! We've received an urgent notification from the Ministry. To prevent further complications, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew need to be brought to justice immediately."
Owen briefly explained the situation; he had dark circles under his eyes and looked as if he hadn't slept all night.
"To avoid more complicated situations..." Allen quickly got dressed and washed his hands, processing his father's words in his mind.
Owen quickly took his son to the Ministry of Magic; he entered directly through the staff corridor without using the complicated guest entrance .
Without asking any questions, Allen quickly followed his father into the Ministry of Magic. However, judging by the expressions of those around him, his father's position within the Ministry had indeed risen considerably!
Allen followed his father, quickly passing through the empty main hall and entering a smaller room.
There were at least twenty elevators, all of which were enclosed in ornate gold railings.
An elevator descended in front of them with a loud noise and clatter.
The gold-colored railing opened smoothly, and the Harris family stepped into the empty elevator.
"This is unusual; it's usually packed," Owen joked.
He didn't want Allen to be nervous, because they were going to the most intimidating and secluded courtroom in the Ministry of Magic.
All the other courtrooms were already full, so this was the only one available for the urgent trial of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.
The elevator descended rapidly and quickly reached its destination with only two passengers on board.
"The Department of Mysteries," a cold female voice suddenly said, then fell silent.
The elevator doors swung open with a loud noise, and Allen was greeted by an extremely dark corridor, a stark contrast to the brightly lit corridors above, even when empty.
The walls were bare, there were no doors or windows, only a plain black door at the end of the corridor.
Allen thought that was exactly their destination, but Mr. Harris grabbed his arm and pulled him to the left; there was an opening leading to a staircase.
"Down, down, be careful," Owen said, descending the steps two at a time. "Even elevators can't go this deep... If I had no other choice, I really..."
They reached the bottom of the stairs and then hurried down another corridor, identical to the Hogwarts corridors leading to Snape's dungeon classrooms: a corridor with rough stone walls and torches on its walls. The doors they passed through here were heavy wooden doors fitted with iron bolts and keyholes.
Owen stood in front of a gloomy black door with a large iron lock.
"Courtroom number ten, yes, this is it. Allen, are you ready?" Owen looked at his son anxiously.
Despite knowing Allen's abilities, in his eyes, Allen was still a child. In such a bleak place, witnessing the political maneuvers of politicians, watching the most serious trials and perhaps the most horrific punishments... Could he cope with all of this?
Allen was unaware of Owen's personal concerns, but that didn't prevent him from feeling his father's concern.
Allen's heart warmed, and he nodded fiercely, sending his father a bright smile; having a family to protect him made him even more fearless.
Owen patted his son lightly on the shoulder, turned the heavy iron handle on the door, and entered the courtroom.
Allen thought the place resembled a dungeon more than a courtroom.
The walls were made of dark black stone, and the torchlight was dim and eerie.
The room had a gloomy and ominous atmosphere; there were no paintings on the walls, no decoration, just cramped benches stacked around the perimeter.
In the middle of the room stood a striking chair. Iron chains crossed over the armrests of the chair.
This chair was clearly reserved for the defendant and was clearly visible from all the seats. The website to read is www.uukanshu.net.
A grim silence fell as the heavy door slammed shut behind Allen.
"Hmm, it looks like we arrived very early, we're the first ones here!" Owen shrugged.
"But that's good too. In these kinds of meetings, arriving early is always more advantageous than being late," Owen explained to his son, thinking that some of the unspoken rules of the wizarding world could be selectively revealed to his intelligent son.
As Allen pondered the deeper meaning of his father's words, the heavy door opened again, and a crowd of footsteps approached.
At least one hundred people, as if they had arranged it beforehand, entered the courtroom in a large group.
Among those present were Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, as well as Mr. Crouch, whom Allen had met that day.
In addition to the black-robed Aurors, more than fifty wizards, wearing magenta robes with an elegant silver "W" embroidered on their left breasts, also streamed in.
Allen recognized a familiar face among them: Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
Allen remembered Dumbledore's identity: He wasn't just the headmaster of Hogwarts, but also the High Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and the Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot.
It was perfectly natural for him to receive an invitation to attend such an important hearing.
Headmaster Dumbledore had clearly noticed Allen; his eyes gleamed behind his crescent-shaped glasses, and he gave Allen a brief but extremely encouraging smile—for Dumbledore, whatever Allen's other intentions were this time, he had certainly been very helpful to him and the Order of the Phoenix.
Fudge nodded to the Harris family, while Crouch, standing beside him, had cold, expressionless eyes.