Beep beep beep—beep beep beep—
After a burst of urgent alarm clock ringing, Lynn opened his sleepy eyes.
He rose from the bed and glanced at the weather outside.
The sky beyond the window was gray, and raindrops pitter-pattered against the glass.
It's raining. It would be nice if I could sleep a little longer, Lynn thought to himself, but he still got out of bed reluctantly.
He walked over to the Undetectable Extension Trunk in the corner and jumped straight inside.
The world inside the trunk was as spacious and bright as ever.
Dodo was nearby organizing materials. Seeing Lynn enter, he bowed slightly in greeting.
Lynn waved to him, signaling him to follow, and walked straight toward the area where the Potions were stored.
The entire row of shelves was filled with various bottles and jars, all the stock he had brewed over the years. From basic Healing Draughts to complex poisons, everything was there.
He quickly found what he needed—a bottle of Polyjuice Potion.
The pale gold liquid shimmered faintly inside the transparent bottle. It had been brewed not long ago and was of high quality with stable effects.
Lynn pulled the dozen or so grayish-white hairs from his pocket, picked one that looked suitable, and dropped it into the Potion.
The liquid instantly began to churn, its color changing from pale gold to a murky mud-yellow before finally settling into a thick, sludge-like color.
Lynn uncorked the bottle, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.
"Potions I brew myself still taste better," Lynn smacked his lips and muttered to himself in the mirror. "Snape doesn't know a damn thing about Potions."
As soon as he finished speaking, a burning sensation rose from his stomach, quickly spreading through his limbs and every bone in his body.
Lynn watched himself in the mirror—his features began to twist, his skin wrinkled, his hair faded from black to grayish-white, scars crawled around his intact eye, and his good leg began to throb with pain as though something were growing inside it.
A few seconds later, the person standing in the mirror had turned into Alastor Moody.
A face full of scars, short grayish-white hair, and a vigilant gleam flashing in that one good eye—if one ignored the hint of youthful spirit hidden deep within.
Lynn nodded with satisfaction.
To act the part even better, he had even specially equipped himself with a magical eye.
It was something he had rushed to make overnight. Its functions might have been a bit lacking—after all, time had been too short, and the replication was somewhat incomplete.
The real Moody's magical eye could rotate 360 degrees and see through all disguises and invisibility, while his...
Anyway, it looked the part when it spun around.
Lynn stretched his neck, adapting to this new body. He tried walking with a limp for a couple of steps and found it acceptable. Although the center of gravity felt awkward, he could manage to walk.
"Dodo," he said, his voice becoming hoarse and coarse, exactly like Moody's, "let's go to the Ministry of Magic."
Dodo's eyes widened. He said his master was very ugly and reached out to grab the corner of Lynn's clothes.
Crack—
After a soft sound, the two disappeared directly from the trunk.
—
The next second, Lynn's feet landed on the marble floor of the Ministry of Magic's Atrium.
The surrounding scenery instantly came into focus. The iconic golden fountain was still splashing away, and the statues of the Magical Brethren shone brightly in the center of the fountain.
Several golden lifts traveled up and down behind the grilles surrounding the Atrium, producing a faint humming sound.
Probably because today was the weekend, the Ministry of Magic didn't have its usual endless stream of Wizards.
The normally hurried staff, Wizards on business, and visiting guests were far fewer today.
Only a handful of scattered figures crossed the Atrium at a brisk pace.
But Lynn noticed that many staff members in Ministry of Magic uniforms were converging in the same direction with solemn expressions.
They walked past in twos and threes, all wearing extremely complicated expressions.
Lynn couldn't help but sigh inwardly. Old Barty's popularity in the Ministry of Magic is really good. So many people are coming to see him off.
Then he heard the sound of complaining nearby.
Two young male Wizards walked past him, one lowering his voice, his tone full of dissatisfaction.
"Sigh, having to come to a funeral on a weekend."
The other sighed in agreement. "Tell me about it. Not only is it on the weekend, but they also required everyone in the Ministry who isn't on assignment to attend. I was supposed to accompany my girlfriend to Hogsmeade today."
"You should count yourself lucky. I was originally going to watch a Quidditch match."
The two drifted farther away, and their complaints disappeared into the crowd.
Lynn: "..."
Fine then.
He collected his thoughts and mimicked Moody's gait—limping, with an uneven center of gravity, his wooden leg striking the ground with a rhythmic thump, thump—as he followed the flow of people toward the Ministry of Magic's Great Hall.
Along the way, people occasionally passed him, and upon seeing his face, they all instinctively quickened their pace to avoid him.
The name "Mad-Eye" was still very effective within the Ministry of Magic, which saved him a lot of trouble.
If he had transformed into Edgar's father, there was no telling how many people would have come over to exchange pleasantries.
Before long, Lynn arrived at the Ministry of Magic's Great Hall.
The Great Hall was enormous, capable of holding well over a thousand people.
At this moment, it had been decorated in a solemn manner. Black drapes hung from above, while silver candlelight flickered among them. A huge silver-white "C" emblem, the crest of the Crouch family, hung prominently on the wall.
Quite a lot of people had come.
It went without saying that the Ministry of Magic officials were present. Those seated in the front rows were all Department Heads or officials of even higher rank.
Further back were magical delegations from various countries, dressed in formal robes with solemn expressions. Many representatives of pure-blood families had also come: Nott, Parkinson, Shafiq...
Lynn spotted Lucius Malfoy at a glance. He was speaking quietly with the head of the Macmillan family nearby.
Above the Great Hall, magical candlelight flickered unsteadily. A low dirge drifted through the air, its melody distant and sorrowful, carrying an almost watery quality.
Lynn listened for a moment and thought it sounded somewhat like the style of Merfolk singing.
He found an inconspicuous corner to stand in, leaning on his crutch with both hands, and began using his magical eye to scan the entire crowd with a supposedly 360-degree, dead-angle-free view.
Spin, spin, spin—
One scan, nothing.
Two scans, nothing.
Three scans, still nothing.
Lynn frowned, greatly disappointed.
Is this Barty Jr. actually an unfilial son?!
His father is dead, and he doesn't even come to see him off. Today's trip was a complete waste.
Lynn sighed and was just about to put away the magical eye and consider slipping away—
"Distinguished guests."
A familiar voice rang through the Great Hall.
Lynn looked up toward the front.
On the podium, Cornelius Fudge stood behind the lectern, dressed in solemn black robes, the expression on his face as serious as could be.
His voice, amplified by magic, echoed throughout the Great Hall.
"Today we gather here to bid farewell to our beloved colleague, loyal partner, and a man who dedicated his life to the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Barty Crouch..."
Lynn couldn't be bothered to listen.
On an occasion like this, the Minister would certainly begin with a long-winded speech. It would be nothing more than clichés like "diligent and conscientious," "giving his all," and "making outstanding contributions to the wizarding world."
He leaned against the wall, his gaze beginning to wander once more.
But this time, he wasn't searching for anyone.
He simply didn't want to listen to Fudge recite the eulogy.
Fudge continued:
"...Mr. Barty Crouch, during his tenure as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement..."
Blah blah blah.
"...for maintaining the laws and order of the wizarding world..."
Blah blah blah.
"...his passing is a great loss to the Ministry of Magic..."
Blah blah blah.
Finally, Fudge's speech drew to a close.
"...Let us, with heavy hearts, bid our final farewell to Mr. Barty Crouch."
He paused before announcing in a louder voice:
"Guests, please come forward in turn to bow before the casket."
Fudge was the first to go.
He accepted an anemone from a short, plump Witch standing beside him—it was a tradition in wizarding funerals to use anemones to express respect for the deceased.
Holding the flower, he walked with heavy steps toward the oak casket decorated with silver patterns at the center of the Great Hall.
The casket was large and imposing, surrounded by flowers and gleaming faintly beneath the candlelight.
Fudge stopped before it.
He took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly, preparing to bow—
BANG!!!
A deafening roar!
The casket lid was blasted violently from the inside, hurtling through the air as wood splinters flew and flowers scattered everywhere. The shockwave sent the surrounding drapes billowing wildly, while the guests in the front row cried out and stumbled backward.
Everyone was stunned by the sudden explosion.
Lynn's magical eye spun frantically, locked onto the center of the blast.
Within the cloud of dust, a figure suddenly leaped out!
The person wore tattered black robes, held a wand high, and had a crazed smile plastered across his face.
Lynn's pupils contracted sharply.
Barty Crouch Jr.? He also transformed into Moody?
Damn! No wonder I couldn't find this guy. Turns out he picked himself a VIP seat—inside the coffin.
"Moody" stood atop the shattered remains of the casket, wand raised high, the smile on his face twisted and manic. His magical eye spun wildly as it scanned the entire hall.
And then—
The magical eye stopped.
It locked onto the direction where Lynn was standing.
Lynn-Moody: ●﹏☉
?-Moody: ☉﹏●
Their eyes met.
The entire hall fell into a dead silence.
---
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