A Pensieve was a magical object that could store thoughts and memories in one's mind. The silvery-white substance flowing at the bottom of the basin was the circulating memory, while the strange-looking symbols around the rim were Ancient Runes.
Dumbledore said, "For someone like me, there are always many memories in my mind. This causes me to think too much, and sometimes my memories inevitably become confused. The Pensieve happens to help me get rid of this problem and make my thoughts clearer."
Memories were not necessarily completely accurate. Sometimes they would be appropriately altered according to one's subjective wishes, turning them into something one would rather see. It was like Rashomon, with everyone trying to beautify their own actions and holding biased views of others.
This was where the Pensieve's purpose became apparent. It allowed people to revisit a particular memory from the perspective of a third party. This might make things more objective and accurate, reducing misjudgments caused by subjective perceptions.
"Let's take a look. Let's look at one of my memories. Perhaps this will help us find the answer we're looking for." Dumbledore continued. Then he reached out and touched the flowing substance in the Pensieve, entering the silent play unfolding within it.
Eda was not surprised by Dumbledore's sudden disappearance, because she could see a tiny Dumbledore at the bottom of the basin. The Headmaster was even waving at her.
Eda followed Dumbledore's example and touched the substance in the basin. In an instant, the office seemed to suddenly tilt sideways, and Eda was "dumped" into the Pensieve as if someone were emptying out a trash bin.
The Headmaster's office suddenly became quiet. One after another, the former headmasters in the portraits on the walls opened their eyes and quietly discussed the two people who had just disappeared.
Inside the memory world of the Pensieve, Eda felt as though she had fallen from a great height. However, she did not descend vertically headfirst. Instead, she landed steadily on a bench, with Dumbledore sitting beside her.
It was a room that made people feel extremely oppressed. At least two hundred wizards were seated on the high tiers surrounding them. Despite the enormous number of people in the room, the scene was unusually quiet. The only sound was the sobbing of a frail-looking witch beside Barty Crouch.
The door in the corner of the room opened, and six Dementors escorted four people inside, three men and one woman. The witch's sobbing immediately grew louder.
Two of the men looked somewhat alike, except that one was short and stout while the other was thin. The shorter man looked somewhat bewildered, while the thinner one was extremely nervous.
The woman among the four had thick, jet-black hair. She looked beautiful, but her arrogant gaze made people uncomfortable. The woman looked disdainfully at the wizards in the room, as though she regarded everyone judging her as a bunch of useless fools and worthless rabble.
The last man looked only seventeen or eighteen years old. He appeared completely terrified, his whole body trembling, with straw-colored hair falling messily across his pale face.
Looking at the boy, Eda muttered quietly, "Barty Crouch Jr."
He looked very much like his father, except that there was far less of his father's sharpness around his eyes and brows. He looked more like his frail mother, the woman who was covering her face and crying beside Barty Crouch.
Dumbledore's memory proceeded in an orderly fashion. Barty Crouch presided over the trial, condemning the four for their inhumane actions and sending all four of them to Azkaban.
Although his own son was among the four, Crouch showed no favoritism. The sight was chilling.
The verdict was life imprisonment. The four would spend the rest of their lives miserably accompanied by Dementors, atoning for the crimes they had committed.
The memory ended there. The scene dissipated like smoke, and the world became completely dark. Only Barty Crouch Jr.'s pleas continued to echo in Eda's ears.
"No! Mother, no! I didn't do it! It wasn't me, I don't know! Don't send me there, stop him!"
"Father! Father, I didn't take part in it! No! No! Father, please!"
Eda had long heard of Barty Crouch's mercilessness and knew that he had sent his own son to Azkaban. But when Eda witnessed the trial with her own eyes, she was still shaken by it, frightened by Crouch's ruthlessness and decisiveness.
What had made Barty Crouch cruelly say, "You are not my son," and "I have no son"? And what had made him say, "Take them away. Let them rot there"?
Barty Crouch's roar even made Eda waver in her own assumptions. She found it difficult to believe that a man like this would secretly release his own son.
Even more difficult for Eda to believe was that someone this cold-hearted truly existed in the world.
Without the slightest hesitation, he had sentenced his own biological son to life imprisonment. On Barty Crouch's face, Eda could not see even the slightest trace of a father's expression.
"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Dumbledore's voice sounded beside her. "That a father could be so heartless toward his own son, right?"
Eda nodded silently. The shocking scene had made her forget that she was currently surrounded by darkness, and she forgot that Dumbledore beside her could not see her movements.
"My father was once imprisoned in Azkaban for breaking the law for the sake of his daughter, Ariana. His crime was attacking three Muggle boys because those three Muggle boys had done something terrible to Ariana." Dumbledore's voice revealed neither joy nor sorrow. "I have never been a father, but I imagine most fathers would be like that!"
Dumbledore's past was no secret. There were people who knew about it, but no one ever brought it up for discussion. His father had been imprisoned in Azkaban for attacking Muggles, while his sister had become an Obscurus.
"No one would think that Barty Crouch had shown favoritism, nor did anyone ever think he would secretly release his son." Dumbledore continued, "People were simply asking why the well-behaved and outstanding young Barty had turned out this way. They blamed everything on Barty Crouch. Because of what happened to young Barty, people no longer trusted Barty Crouch."
"Spare the rod and spoil the child." Young Barty had broken the law, and Mr. Crouch was certainly at fault in his upbringing, but he could not be blamed for everything.
Just as Dumbledore said, Crouch's approval rating fell simply because people no longer trusted him.
People often sympathized with the weak because they could find something to relate to in them. Barty Crouch could treat his own son with such coldness and cruelty, so what about the rest of the citizens?
If the cold and heartless Barty Crouch came to power, what cruel things might he do to his own people?
That was the main reason people stopped trusting Crouch. No one would like a leader who had no human warmth, a leader who had even lost his humanity.
"Eda, your hypothesis is quite bold. Some might even think you're crazy for suggesting it." Dumbledore continued, "But I think it is very possible, because a series of blows one after another can change a person."
His own son had been imprisoned, his wife had fallen seriously ill, and the career he had spent half his life building had sunk to its lowest point. The combined blows to his family and career were enough to cause a drastic change in Barty Crouch's character and way of thinking.
Showing favoritism and bending the law was not impossible. If things became even more outrageous, he might even have switched sides entirely.
Going dark, anyone?
All it needed was a catalyst, and Barty Crouch's late wife could very well have been that catalyst.
"What a complete tragedy." Eda sighed softly. "Everyone's life is always filled with all kinds of misfortune. That's the damn thing about life."
Eda suddenly felt a large hand placed on top of her head. Then light appeared, and another hazy memory emerged before her eyes.
It was Alastor Moody, Moody with his magical eye and wooden leg. The scene seemed to be taking place in the former Auror's home.
Another memory began to play.
...
(～￣▽￣)～Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon: Dragonel