Dumbledore looked at him, his expression complicated.
He had been headmaster for nearly sixty or seventy years. Excluding Harry's generation, Barty Crouch Jr. was nearly on par with Cedric Diggory and Severus Snape in excellence—whether in magical talent or intellect.
"So, you've caught him," Dumbledore sighed softly.
Harry shook his head. "But the situation is probably worse than we thought."
He extended his hand; from his wand, ropes shot out and bound both Crouch and the house-elf tightly, hoisting them up:
"Let's head back to the castle first."
Dumbledore nodded, glancing at the charred land where green sprouts had just broken through, and with a wave of his wand, swept away the layer of burnt soil.
Above, the heavy snow halted.
A small raincloud he conjured drizzled a fine mist down, making the land below spring back to life like it was spring again.
They turned and left, leaving Hagrid behind to soothe the frightened creatures of the Forbidden Forest.
After locking Crouch and the elf inside an abandoned classroom—secured by powerful spells—Harry, Dumbledore, and Snape gathered in the Headmaster's office.
"Crouch is caught," Snape said with an odd lightness in his tone.
He looked terrible.
Since Lupin's curse was lifted, Snape had only become more gaunt—his skin sunken, his bones sharp, skin darker. He looked like a living skeleton.
Hearing that Crouch had been captured, it was like a little flame of life rekindled within him.
"Yes, we caught him," Harry confirmed.
Snape froze slightly, furrowing his brows as he and Dumbledore sat down, waiting for the rest.
Harry sat too:
"Crouch tampered with his own mind. His memories are wiped—no useful clues."
"I read through what memories were left. Nothing particularly odd."
That was the most frustrating part.
Maybe the clues were sitting plainly in Crouch's memories.
Maybe a goblet of pumpkin juice at the corner of a table.
Maybe some food.
Maybe a painting.
Maybe scenery.
Without Crouch's confession, it was nearly impossible to sift through such vast memories.
Snape took a deep breath: "Still no leads on the Dark Lord's Horcrux?"
Harry nodded. "He was careful. Looks like he prepared for being captured."
"Probably prepared like that every time he showed up."
"Crouch is smart. And cautious," Snape muttered, coughing again.
"Even back at Malfoy Manor, I barely saw him."
Harry looked at Snape, speaking gently: "Professor, I fear—"
"I know," Snape cut him off sharply.
"I'll assist Crouch. After all, I am his friend, his only remaining ally among the Death Eaters."
Harry shook his head.
"I'm afraid not the only one."
Snape froze, looking incredulously at Harry.
Even Dumbledore was visibly surprised.
What?
"Potter, unless I'm mistaken, all the Death Eaters died at Malfoy Manor," Snape said grimly.
"You confirmed it. I confirmed it."
Harry nodded calmly. "You're right."
"But facts are facts."
He explained:
"Crouch was delivered to the Forbidden Forest edge by the elf. But after that, Crouch never met the elf again. Yet during our confrontation, he summoned that elf again."
"And the elf's memories had been tampered with—only remembering the delivery but nothing else."
They both instantly caught Harry's meaning.
Dumbledore said gravely:
"You're suggesting that after the elf returned, someone else tampered with its memory?"
Harry nodded.
Dumbledore snapped his fingers.
A house-elf popped into the room:
"Noble Dumbledore, how can Lofty serve you?"
Dumbledore asked:
"Where did Kaka go today?"
Lofty wiggled its ears:
"Kaka did not leave Hogwarts today!"
"Not leave?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Then where in Hogwarts did Kaka go?"
Lofty eagerly reported:
"At two in the morning, Kaka helped us clean the Gryffindor students' laundry, dried it, returned it, then prepared breakfast."
"After breakfast, cleaned the Gryffindor tower, then again prepared lunch."
"The weather was poor, so Kaka stayed around Gryffindor and the seventh and eighth floors."
"Never left?" Harry pressed.
Lofty nodded seriously:
"Lofty does not lie. Kaka stayed within that area."
"Any hidden chambers or secret passages around Gryffindor Tower or the seventh, eighth floors?" Harry asked.
He pointed at the Marauder's Map behind the desk.
"Places not shown on that map."
Lofty stood on tiptoe, staring at the map, but after a while, shook its head:
"Lofty knows everything marked there."
Harry frowned.
"Look at me."
Lofty obediently lifted its head to meet his gaze.
Legilimens.
After a moment, Harry withdrew the spell and shook his head.
"Bad news. These house-elves likely once knew—but their memories were erased."
"Somewhere near the Gryffindor tower or seventh, eighth floors, there's a hidden chamber unknown to us. Voldemort and his remaining follower are hiding there."
While reading Lofty's memories, Harry sensed huge blank spaces—something had been extracted long ago.
"But besides me, who else is left?" Snape said bitterly.
True Death Eaters had died.
The only exception, Crouch, was now captured.
The Ministry still had some rats left—but they were survivors, not loyalists.
"Karkaroff," Harry said.
Snape froze.
"I never saw him again," Snape muttered, suspicious.
"He's a coward."
"Crouch wouldn't trust him."
"He disappeared without a trace."
"But," Harry said, waving the elf away, "apart from him, I can't think of anyone else."
"Maybe not trust—but black magic offers many ways to control someone."
Dumbledore murmured thoughtfully:
"So our breakthrough still lies with Crouch?"
Harry nodded.
He pulled a small vial from the Sorting Hat and placed it on the desk.
"And worse—Crouch had already made contact with the Wild Hunt."
Snape peered at the vial.
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes.
"That substance from the knights?"
Harry nodded:
"White Frost.
Some kind of magical natural phenomenon—I'm not entirely sure what."
Snape began counting on his fingers:
"So, we must find out from Crouch—"
"Where is the hidden chamber?"
"Where are the remaining Horcruxes?"
"And how did they contact the Wild Hunt?"
Harry nodded again.
—
In a disused third-floor classroom.
Crouch lay tied up, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He barely had enough magical sensitivity to realize the room was sealed under numerous, complex layers of spellwork—Dumbledore and Harry's work, dense and impenetrable.
He called out:
"Kaka?"
"Lofty?"
Nothing.
Just then, the door opened with a clatter.
"No point trying," Harry said, stepping in.
"We severed your bond to Hogwarts."
"You have no connection to this castle now."
Crouch froze like a wooden statue, blankly staring at the chalkboard.
"Confess," Harry said lightly, motioning outside the door.
Snape reluctantly entered.
Crouch squinted at him.
Harry watched carefully and said meaningfully:
"I know you're hiding in Gryffindor Tower."
"The most dangerous place is the safest, right?"
"I'm talking about you—and your accomplice."
"Karkaroff?"
Crouch's face didn't even twitch—he was too well-trained.
Not Gryffindor Tower then.
And maybe not Karkaroff either.
Harry kept his face neutral and waved toward Snape:
"Think it over."
"Professor Snape brewed a very special potion just for you."
----------
Powerstones?
For 20 advance chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates