A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 346: Shadows Approach

Chapter 346: Shadows Approach

The sky gradually lightened, turning into a deep shade of blue, with a faint touch of white emerging from the horizon.

Felix Harp stood amidst the crowd, beginning to understand why Fudge was so wary of Barty Crouch. Crouch rarely smiled, exuding an old-fashioned and rigid demeanor. While Fudge was still contemplating how to handle these masked individuals, Crouch had already issued orders methodically.

"Take these ruffians away," he said sternly, "they will undergo interrogation until someone reveals the mastermind behind this act of terror."

Fudge wiped his brow, "Crouch... Barty, you're being too severe... They were just drunk and causing a bit of a commotion. It didn't result in any serious consequences... I wouldn't classify it as terror... If it weren't for the Muggle involvement, a fine would suffice."

"Oh, really?" Crouch retorted, his eyes fixed firmly on the unmasked figures, "Some of them I recognize quite well, very well indeed..."

Fudge cleared his throat, "Very well, let's discuss some matters back at the officeWalsch!" He turned and scanned, as Walsch Cedric briskly approached.

"I'll take charge of a portion of these people; you handle the aftermath... um, the pacification work. I need to return to the office to deal with more complex troubles."

The Ministry's staff hastily prepared a batch of Portkeys and left with the fallen individuals.

Walsch Cedric arranged for the remaining people to extinguish fires and calm the crowd. Many families had become separated, and the Ministry's employees empowered their voices, their throats going hoarse as they shouted amidst the crowd.

There were claims, complaints, grievances, all sorts of tangled demands. Walsch demonstrated excellent professionalism, taking note of everything and then casually instructing them to compile a list of losses. Whether compensation would be provided or not remained uncertain.

"They won't get compensated, just have to chalk it up as bad luck," Sirius, experienced as he was, quipped. Harry wanted to laugh but found it hard to, so he settled for a wry grin.

"Alright, children," Mr. Weasley said, "you should head back to your tents and get some sleep. Dawn is only a few hours away, and you'll need to queue up again to collect the Portkeys in the morning."

Barty Crouch remained behind, seeking out Felix Harp.

"There are some matters I wish to discuss with you, Mr. Harp," Crouch said with a stern expression, "shall we find a place to have a proper conversation? What do you think?"

"Of course," Felix replied with a slight smile, "how about my tent? It's still intact."

They returned to the tent of Future World Inc., a spacious one with stacks of empty boxes in the corners and two large magical lamps shaped like dragons. Crouch glanced at Clementine and Lupin in the corner but said nothing.

As they sat down, Felix motioned for a pitcher of lemon juice.

"Thank you," Crouch said politely, his expression serious. He wasted no time getting to the point, "Mr. Harp, I want to express my gratitude to you for promptly quelling the riot and preventing more severe consequences."

"More severe consequences?"

"Yes, indeed, more severe consequences," Crouch repeated sharply, his gaze fixed on Felix, "You haven't experienced them, but I know what they are like. To be honest, following the standard procedure, that Muggle family wouldn't have survived."

"Standard procedure..." Felix raised an eyebrow, "It can't be what I'm thinking, right?"

"Death Eaters," Crouch said coldly, "finding amusement in killing Muggles. When I was still the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I dealt with a fair share of horrifying cases. So, I ordered my Aurors to respond in kind."

Felix toyed with his goblet, pondering. Just then, the tent's curtain was lifted, "Barty, I heard you were here... Ah, as expected."

Ludo Bagman panted, his face glistening with sweat.

He pulled up a chair between the two and poured himself a glass of lemon juice, downing it in one gulp, sighing deeply, "What an eventful day. Those fans"

"They were rioters, Ludo," Crouch interjected, correcting him.

"Uh, right, rioters..." Bagman hesitated, "What are you two discussing?"

But that was just an introduction; he immediately launched into a monologue, looking at Felix with a smile, "It's a shame I missed the spectacle. While you were making a grand display of your power, I was settling a bet with Roddy. He placed a hefty wager that Bulgaria would score the first goal, and well, you all saw what happened... I could tell Bulgaria wouldn't do well from the start, so I offered favorable odds!"

"Then there's little Agatha, staking half of her shares in the eel farm. Quite mad, really... but it did help me pay off a debt to a pixie."

"No one wants to hear about your business exploits," Crouch impatiently interjected, "we're discussing serious matters here. If you can remember that you're also one of the leaders in this camp."

Ludo Bagman looked uneasy, "But, hasn't it all ended? The troublemakers were taken back to the Ministry, and we have Walsch here. He's handling things far better than I would..."

Felix smiled and said, "Mr. Bagman, we were just discussing Death Eaters."

"Death... what? Death Eaters..." Sweat began to form on Bagman's round face, "I, I don't quite understand."

Neither Felix nor Crouch paid him any mind. Felix wanted to know why Crouch sought him out, so he picked up the thread where they left off, "Mr. Crouch, you mentioned that Death Eaters find amusement in killing Muggles. Do you believe they were responsible for today's incident?"

"I can't think of anyone else," Crouch said deliberately, "Only they would need to hide their identities, masking their cowardice and despicableness while reminiscing about their former glory. Years after the fall of the Dark Lord, they use this method to remind us that they're thriving."

His toothbrush-like mustache trembled, his eyes bulging, creating a ferocious appearance. Felix couldn't help but wonder if he could bite through a Death Eater's throat with those teeth if one were standing before him.

Bagman pictured the scene of his own trial at the end of the war; Crouch's expression mirrored the one from back then, sending shivers down his spine. From this perspective, Fudge's arrangement had clearly failed. Bagman lacked the courage to oppose Crouch. The seed of fear had been planted during his own trial, tying him to Crouch in the years since.

"Barty, maybe, perhaps..." He was quite rattled, struggling to form coherent words.

Felix Harp had a similar suspicion and nodded, "So, in reality, something is still missing todaythe Dark Mark."

Crouch's expression contorted with disdain, "They wouldn't dare."

Before the conversation concluded, Barty Crouch seemed to reveal his true intent, "The Wizengamot is considering admitting you as one of their members, soon. Perhaps you'll catch this upcoming trial. We need to be tough on these scum."

Felix watched Crouch's departing figure, feeling uneasy. Was Crouch recruiting allies within the Wizengamot? As far as Felix knew, Barty Crouch hadn't been having an easy time lately. There were even rumors that Fudge was planning to expel him from the Wizengamot.

However, in reality, Fudge lacked the authority to do so. The Wizengamot Wizarding Court was quite a loose organization; each member had their own tasks, and they only gathered when important matters arose.

If one were to speak of a leader, it was Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

...

Not long after Barty Crouch left, he cited physical discomfort and disappeared from the camp on leave. Yet, he didn't go far, remaining in the woods near the camp.

A figure in a black hooded cloak stood amidst the mist, motionless.

Barty Crouch's expression also froze, as if petrified.

The cloaked figure lowered its hood, revealing a young face, "Master."

Barty Crouch's voice suddenly turned hoarse and chilling, "I met Felix Harp..."

"What!" The cloaked figure, mini Barty Crouch, spoke in a low voice, "Isn't that too risky, Master... We underestimated him before, but today we were on the scene, and you even saw through my father's eyes..."

Barty Crouch's eyes turned blood-red in an instant, his pupils slitted like a snake's, he whispered, "Before devising a plan, it's always prudent to ascertain who the enemies are... Turns out he can't detect me... He can't even match the sensitivity of that child, Harry Potter!"

"But what if he uncovers your disguise?" Mini Barty Crouch said urgently.

Barty Crouch, or rather Voldemort, said with a voice devoid of emotion, "In my current state... the greatest benefit is that I cannot be killed. Perhaps you still hold some attachment to your father?"

"No, my Master." Mini Barty Crouch knelt at his feet, saying with devotion, "I despise him to my core, shamed by his name. Master, he imprisoned me for over a decade, making me live like a dead man, until your arrival freed me."

This touched upon a past event. Over a decade ago, as the war ended, those guilty were locked away in Azkaban. Among them, mini Barty Crouch was charged with tormenting the Lestranges into madness, alongside Bellatrix and others. At the trial, mini Crouch denied the accusations and pleaded with his father, the presiding judge, to believe him. The evidence was not substantial, as eye-witnesses didn't have a strong impression of mini Crouch. Coupled with the fact that his father was the judge overseeing the trial, he had a good chance of escaping the charges.

Unfortunately, Barty Crouch Sr. was unwavering in his judgment. He had long since spotted the flaws in his son's furtive behavior. Combining these discrepancies with the ambiguous testimonies, he ultimately convicted mini Crouch, sentencing him to lifelong imprisonment.

Afterwards, Barty Crouch Sr. made a grave mistake. Unable to refuse his dying wife's plea, he used a Polyjuice Potion to exchange his son's place in Azkaban. Mini Crouch was held captive at home, controlled by the Imperius Curse, taken care of by the house-elf Winky. He intended to keep him oblivious for the rest of his life.

That was, until Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban. With a determination to kill Wormtail at any cost, the petrified Wormtail was startled. Disappearing for several months, he found Voldemort and learned about the Triwizard Tournament and mini Crouch through Bertha Jorkins' information. They broke into his house while Barty Crouch Sr. was away, liberating mini Crouch. When Barty Crouch Sr. returned from work, he was ambushed by his son and Wormtail, controlled by a curse. They used the Imperius Curse to bend him to their will.

...

In a voice devoid of emotion, Voldemort said, "What if I were to have you personally kill your own father?"

"I would carry out your command with great pleasure!"

"No rush," Voldemort emitted a bone-chilling laugh, "Barty Crouch still has some use. However, he nearly broke free from my control in front of that fool Fudge. It almost ruined everything. It's possible that the agony he experienced from my presence in his mind inadvertently dampened the effect of the Imperius Curse."

Mini Barty Crouch pondered, "What if he sees through the flaw?"

Voldemort sneered, "There's no evidence, at most just some probing. But the Triwizard Tournament is inseparable from him, and events will unfold as we anticipated. The only regret is, I cannot sustain this state for too long... Being without Wormtail is truly inconvenient."

"Master, it's all my fault."

"That's enough," Voldemort said, "Proceed as planned. We'll return to your home first; I need some rest. Afterward, we'll seek out Mad-Eye Moody. He's not easy to deal with; we must set up a trap."

"Master, it's been quite an ordeal for you to acquire a corporeal form. I can handle this myself... Or if not, I could have Winky..."

"Since when did a house-elf become capable of serving the mighty Lord Voldemort?" Voldemort said darkly, "If Barty Crouch is exposed, it's fine. I've devised an appropriate way for his curtain call."

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