A glint of light flashed in Veratia's eyes.
"Very clever." She raised her head slightly. "It is exactly as you guessed. The Imperius Curse placed on Old Barty was cast by his own son, Barty Crouch Jr."
"So that's how it is..."
Harry felt no sympathy for Barty Crouch Sr. or Jr.; he merely found the situation rather interesting.
Just then, there was another knock on the office door.
"Come in," Veratia said.
The door was pushed open, and Harry saw that the people entering were Sirius Black and Professor Lupin.
"Harry, are you alright?" Sirius spread his arms and walked over to give Harry a hug.
"I'm fine," Harry said with a smile. "Why are you and Professor Lupin here? Is something wrong?"
"Of course," Lupin said. "It's about Mr. Crouch. Miss Grindelwald notified Padfoot and me to come to her office at Hogwarts. We originally intended to call you along, but Ron said you weren't there, so we guessed you must have come to Miss Grindelwald's."
"Haha." Sirius chuckled and said to Harry, "You'll never guess what happened in the Crouch family—"
"You know about it too?" Harry looked up and asked.
Sirius instantly deflated.
"Oh, it seems you already know," he said, his enthusiasm dampening. "I knew it. Miss Grindelwald would definitely tell you about this. Honestly, I had planned to tell you this interesting bit of news myself."
However, he quickly cheered up again.
"It's a good thing, really. You know, he was the one who ordered me to be sent to Azkaban without so much as a trial—" Sirius sniffed and continued, "At the time, people predicted he might be elected the next Minister for Magic. He is a remarkable wizard, Barty Crouch—powerfully magical and with a strong desire for power... though everyone knows Crouch was staunchly opposed to Voldemort."
"Now, imagine this: back when Voldemort's power was at its peak, you didn't know who his supporters were and who weren't. You didn't know who was working for him and who wasn't. You knew he could control people, forcing them to do terrible things against their will. You were terrified for yourself, your family, and your friends. Every week brought bad news—more deaths, more disappearances, more torture... The Ministry of Magic was in chaos; they didn't know what to do. They were trying by all means to keep it from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles were dying too. Everywhere was terror... tension... chaos... That was the situation back then."
At this point, Sirius stood up and began pacing around the office.
"Alas, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Initially, Crouch's principles were probably sound—I don't know for sure. He rose quickly in the Ministry and began taking very hardline measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers—for instance, the authority to kill rather than just capture."
"I wasn't the only one handed over to the Dementors without a trial. Crouch fought violence with violence; he authorized the use of Unforgivable Curses against suspects. In my opinion, he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Arts side."
"Did you know he had his own supporters? Many thought his way of handling things was correct. Many wizards clamored for him to become Minister for Magic. After Voldemort disappeared, it seemed only a matter of time before Crouch took the top job. But then, something very unfortunate happened..." Sirius revealed a gloating smile. "Crouch's own son was caught. He was found with a group of Death Eaters who had talked their way out of Azkaban. It looked like they were trying to find Voldemort and bring him back to power."
"I know about this," Veratia said, resting her chin on her hand, her expression looking as if she were discussing something delightful. "Dumbledore showed me the relevant memory. It was Karkaroff. To save his own skin, he first named Snape, but Dumbledore vouched for Snape, saying he was his spy. Then, Karkaroff named Barty Crouch Jr."
"Yes," Sirius scratched his cheek. "I don't know those details, but I know that after Little Barty was identified as a Death Eater, everyone was shocked. After all, Little Barty was a good student who received twelve O.W.L.s at school. How could he get mixed up with Voldemort?"
"Sometimes, learning to be good is very difficult, but learning to be bad is incredibly easy," Lupin commented sharply from the side.
"Yes, yes," Veratia said with a faint smile. "Perhaps Old Barty had such high expectations for his son that it caused a rebellious reaction in the boy. But that isn't our concern. I only know that after such a scandal, his path to becoming Minister for Magic was completely cut off."
"Sigh." Sirius sighed heavily. "I always thought Little Barty died in Azkaban... I saw the Dementors bring him in. I watched him through the iron bars of my cell door... He looked nineteen at most. They threw him into the cell next to mine. By evening, he was screaming for his mother. But after a few days, he went silent... They all go silent eventually... only occasionally screaming in their sleep. Later, he died."
"It was his mother who swapped places with him," Veratia sighed softly, recounting the story of the deception within the Crouch family to Sirius.
Harry had been feeling a bit of schadenfreude himself, but hearing this, he couldn't quite laugh anymore.
"A mother's love..." Sirius raised his head, his eyes glistening slightly. "Truly great."
"Indeed, a very great mother's love," Veratia echoed the sigh. "So, this matter has become the reason why Old Barty cannot refuse to cooperate with us."
Harry and the others, who were still feeling sentimental, suddenly froze at Veratia's words.
Wait, sister, is that appropriate?
"Why are you all looking at me?" Veratia chuckled lightly. "A mother's love is certainly great, but what is even greater is that we can use this to make Old Barty one of our own, isn't it?"
"You really are..." Sirius held it in for a long time before finding the right adjective. "A moral vacuum..."
"Thanks for the compliment." Veratia smiled, took off her slanted hat, and nodded to Sirius.
Sirius took a deep breath.
Fine, I'll assume I was actually complimenting her just now.
"Sigh," he said again. "It's a pity about that great mother..."
"Therefore," a mischievous light flashed in Veratia's eyes, "Mr. Godfather, your cool title is gone."
"What title?" Sirius asked, puzzled.
"The first person to escape from Azkaban in recent years," Veratia said beaming. "It's gone. Now, it is Barty Crouch Jr."
"That bitch!" Sirius slammed the table in anger.
No way! My incredibly cool title, just snatched away like that!
"Of course," Veratia added, "if we can keep this secret and use the information to bring Old Barty to our side, then... that title will remain yours, Mr. Godfather."
Sirius sat in the chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, his eyes somewhat hollow.
"Forget it, it's just a vanity," he sighed. "So, have you found Little Barty? Lupin and I searched for a long time without any success."
"Found him. He is currently right here inside Hogwarts." Veratia reached into Harry's robes, pulled out the Marauder's Map, and spread it on the table. "Look, another Auror has also been attacked by a Death Eater. Guess who?"
"Who?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"It can't be Alastor, can it?" Sirius drew a sharp breath. He pointed to the location of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office on the Marauder's Map. "Look, this should be Alastor Moody, but the map displays 'Barty Crouch'... We know Old Barty isn't at Hogwarts right now, and even if he were, he would be in the Headmaster's office..."
"So the question is, did Little Barty use Polyjuice Potion to turn into Moody?" Lupin looked at Sirius and asked.
"It must be," Sirius slammed the table. "Let's capture him quickly. I want to know what kind of evil plan they have."
"To arrest a teacher within the school, I think we need the Headmaster's approval," Veratia said with a smile. "Although we are all Hogwarts graduates, none of us are current staff at Hogwarts, and my status is particularly sensitive... So, it is best to consult Dumbledore first."
As she spoke, a flash of fire appeared beside her.
Moments later, the fire flashed again, and Dumbledore appeared in the office.
"...And that is the basic situation," Harry recounted the story of the real and fake Moody, as well as the 'filial piety' between Old and Little Barty, to Dumbledore.
"I knew it. Old Barty, he..."
Dumbledore stopped halfway through his sentence. "However, he deserves his punishment. Tell me, what should we do now? Arrest the fake Alastor Moody immediately?"
"Of course," Veratia said. "If we don't catch him, how will we know their next step? He didn't cause any destruction during the first two tasks, but that doesn't mean they don't have an evil plan for the final task."
"You are right," Dumbledore nodded and said, "There is a saying that a thief may try to steal a thousand times, but one cannot stay on guard against a thief for a thousand days."
Since the plan was set, Dumbledore moved immediately, arriving at the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office with Veratia and the others.
"Alastor?" Dumbledore knocked on the door. He held the unfolded Marauder's Map in his hand, where the dot labeled 'Barty Crouch' was moving inside the office.
A moment later, the door opened.
Seeing so many people standing at the door, "Moody's" expression was obviously startled.
The next second, he went flying, landing on a chair that had suddenly appeared behind him, his hands and feet bound tight.
"Are you Alastor Moody!" Dumbledore pointed his wand at him. "Who are you! Tell the truth!"
"Albus, I think this is a misunderstanding." The fake Moody tried hard to maintain a smile.
However, Harry had no intention of giving him a chance. He raised his hand and cast a spell instantly.
"Imperio!"
The fake Moody's expression immediately became blank.
He could certainly resist the Imperius Curse cast by Old Barty, but in the face of magic intensity like Harry's, his magical resistance was practically negligible.
Right after Harry cast the Imperius Curse, a green "X" mark suddenly appeared on the fake Moody's forehead in Harry's vision.
Under the influence of the Imperius Curse, the fake Moody revealed their entire plan.
Voldemort was preparing an evil magic that could restore his physical body—but the price was that it required the blood of an enemy as a catalyst.
In reality, Voldemort's enemies were everywhere; grabbing any one of them could allow him to resurrect successfully. But Voldemort wanted Harry's blood specifically—not just for the surging Ancient Magic within Harry, but also for the magical protection Lily had placed upon him.
"So you intend to turn the target object of the final task into a Portkey," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles, "to transport him into the trap you have already prepared, correct?"
"Yes," the fake Moody mumbled.
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but before the question could leave his lips, the fake Moody began to convulse.
Gradually, the scars on the fake Moody's face and body began to disappear, and his skin became smooth. The missing nose grew back completely, then shrank.
The long gray hair shortened and turned pale straw-colored—suddenly, with a clatter, the wooden leg fell away, and a real leg grew out.
Then, the magical eyeball popped out of its socket, and a real eye took its place.
The magical eye rolled onto the floor, still spinning wildly.
The person who had been the fake Moody transformed in that moment into a young man with pale skin, a few freckles, and a mop of straw-colored hair.
"Magic is truly amazing," Harry said to Veratia. "I really didn't expect Polyjuice Potion to be capable of this degree of transformation. I feel that when he turned into Moody, it must have been quite uncomfortable—after all, a leg disappeared out of thin air."
"If you want to know what that tastes like, you can try it yourself," Veratia said without turning her head.
Harry shook his head; that was a sensation he had no desire to experience.
"So, what should we do next?" Dumbledore turned his head to look at Harry and Veratia.
Here, whether speaking of magical ability or simply age, Dumbledore was willing to listen to the opinions of these two seniors.
--
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