World Hopping With Gacha

The Ministry had taken the bait. After planing carefully, the trap was set. Rita Skeeter had done her part, publishing an article in the Daily Prophet detailing various supposed sighting of the enigmatic criminal William James Moriarty in Muggle London. The piece, dripping with sensationalism, painted Moriarty as a dangerous fugitive who had slipped into the Muggle world to escape justice. Skeeter, had even hinted at a forthcoming Ministry operation to apprehend him, creating the perfect storm of media and public pressure.

I stood in the Room of Requirement, finalizing the details of my plan. The Moriarty clone thanks to my newly acquired Individuality skill was always connected to me and was currently rehearsing his lines. The knowledge from the White Room ensured that he played the role of Moriarty flawlessly.

"Remember," I told the clone, "this is about control. Let them arrest you. Draw as much attention as possible. This trial isn't just a show for the Ministry; it's a stage for us to expose everything they've tried to hide."

The clone nodded, a faint smirk on his lips. Garuda, perched on my shoulder, let out a low whistle. "I hope you know what you're doing. The Ministry doesn't play nice when their reputation's on the line."

"I do," I replied. "That's why they're going to do as I have planned. And when they do, we'll be ready."

---

Early on December 10th, the clone took his position at a small, bustling café in Muggle London. It was a quaint spot, frequented by both locals and tourists, it was perfect for attracting attention. He sat by the window, sipping coffee and flipping through a copy of a newspaper, his sharp red eyes scanning the room. The choice of location wasn't random; it was a place Rita Skeeter had described in her article, practically begging the Aurors to investigate.

From my vantage point—hidden on a rooftop a few blocks away—I observed the scene while Garuda was keeping an eye from above. The clone exuded an air of confidence, his posture relaxed but alert. It didn't take long for the Aurors to arrive. Four of them apparated near an alley just outside the café, wands drawn but concealed beneath their robes to avoid alarming the Muggles.

The lead Auror entered first. He scanned the room, his eyes locking onto the clone almost immediately. The other three followed, spreading out to surround the target while also putting an illusion on every muggle in the vicinity. The clone didn't flinch. Instead, he set down his cup and raised an eyebrow, as if mildly amused by their presence.

"William James Moriarty," the lead Auror said, his voice low but commanding. "You're under arrest for crimes against the wizarding world. Come quietly, and we won't have to make a scene."

The clone smiled, a hint of mockery in his expression. "Crimes? Against the wizarding world? My, my, you make me sound like a proper villain. But tell me, Auror, do you even know what those crimes are? Or are you just following orders like a good little soldier?"

The Auror's jaw tightened. "Stand up. Hands where I can see them."

The clone complied, rising slowly from his seat. He made no move to resist as the Aurors placed magical restraints on his wrists. The other patrons in the café watched with a mix of curiosity and confusion, unaware of the true nature of the arrest. To them, it likely looked like some sort of police operation.

As the Aurors escorted the clone out of the café, a flash of light erupted from a nearby bush. A photographer, undoubtedly tipped off by Rita Skeeter, was capturing every moment. The clone turned his head slightly, ensuring the camera caught his face. The smirk he wore would be front-page news by morning.

---

Back at Hogwarts, I waited for the news to break. By the next day, the Daily Prophet was ablaze with headlines:

William James Moriarty: Captured!

The article, written by Rita Skeeter herself, detailed the arrest in dramatic fashion. She described Moriarty as a cunning and dangerous individual who had eluded capture for far too long. She also hinted at a public trial, noting that sources within the Ministry believed it would be the perfect opportunity to showcase their strength and resolve.

Perfect. The Ministry had fallen right into my trap. They were desperate to appear competent and in control, and a public trial would give me the platform I needed to expose their corruption.

As I read the article, Garuda perched on my desk, pecking at a leftover piece of toast. "You've got their attention now," he said between bites. "But are you sure about this trial? You're putting a lot of faith in the Ministry's incompetence."

"It's not faith," I replied. "It's certainty. The Ministry's arrogance is their greatest weakness. They think they can control the narrative, but they've underestimated me."

---

With the arrest made and the trial on the horizon, I began gathering the final pieces of my plan. The trial would be my opportunity to reveal the Ministry's darkest secrets, but I needed to ensure that the wizarding public would listen. To do that, I had to be strategic.

First, I reached out to Rita Skeeter again. This time, I sent her a carefully worded letter, emphasizing the importance of covering the trial extensively. I included just enough tantalizing hints about what might come to light during the proceedings to pique her interest. Rita, the gossip-hound, wouldn't be able to resist.

Next, I used my network of avian spies to gather information on the Aurors who had arrested the clone. They were likely to testify during the trial, and I needed to be prepared to counter any claims they made.

Finally, I began preparing my own defense. While the clone would be the one standing in the courtroom, I would be orchestrating everything from behind the scenes. I crafted a series of arguments designed not only to discredit the Ministry but also to sway public opinion. This wasn't just about winning the trial; it was about reshaping the narrative entirely.

---

As the date of the trial drew closer, the Ministry ramped up their efforts to control the situation. They released statements to the press, painting Moriarty as a dangerous criminal whose capture was a victory for wizarding Britain. They also began tightening security around the trial, likely anticipating some sort of disruption.

But their efforts only played into my hands. The more they tried to assert their authority, the more obvious their desperation became. The wizarding public wasn't blind; they could see through the Ministry's posturing. And with Rita Skeeter stoking the flames with her sensational articles, the stage was set for a spectacle unlike anything Hogwarts had ever seen.

---

On the eve of the trial, I sat in the Room of Requirement, reviewing every detail one last time.

"Tomorrow," I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else, "the wizarding world will see the truth. And the Ministry might never be the same."

Garuda let out a low whistle. "Let's hope you're right, Arthur."

---Note

If you find any Writing or Grammatical errors, mention it in the Paragraph Comment.