harry potter book of crimes

"... I thought you were a wizard who truly understood the charm of dark magic... I thought you were the powerful follower closest to your master... But now I understand, you are just another hypocrite under Dumbledore.

Just an idiot!"

"I'm not afraid of your soul magic! Come on! If you can't kill me today, I will let you see what real black magic is in the future!"

Barty Crouch Jr.'s thinking has been completely eroded by the power of darkness, and what affects and corrupts him is not only Voldemort's evil thoughts, but also the negative inducements brought to him by various black magic.

Looking at Barty Crouch Jr. who was in desperate situation and completely crazy, Maka shook her head gently.

In fact, Maka's words are already obvious.

He didn't want Barty Jr.'s life at all, because it didn't have much value to him now. But who knew that Barty Jr. would become so stubborn that he wouldn't even compromise to survive.

"If that's the case, then you should..."

Before Maka could finish his words, he saw Little Barty suddenly get angry and stabbing towards him with a strange-shaped dagger in his hand.

"Hahaha... Come on! Kill me! Kill me!"

Judging from the posture, it seemed that he was going to fight back before dying, so Maka couldn't even say the second half of the sentence, so she recited the incantation like a conditioned reflex.

"……Avada Kedavra."

The penetrating green light silently lit up in the bushes of the Forbidden Forest, and then quietly extinguished. Little Barty stretched his neck, lay weakly on the ground, and stopped breathing.

But Maka discovered that, whether it was a coincidence or not, his left hand was awkwardly placed on her neck.

Maka seemed to think about it for a moment, and then tugged on Little Barty's left hand. Immediately afterwards, a brass key tied with a black rope that was originally hanging around his neck was removed from the collar by Maka.

It was pulled out.

Old Batty stood next to the tree trunk, staring at the key, breathing hard. His feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, unable to move even half a step.

The next moment, the surrounding dense forest and the son lying on the ground suddenly disappeared, and the surrounding became pitch black and dead silence. In the blink of an eye, he felt that his body became lighter and was quietly rising with a hidden force.

Then, a wave of suction came from behind, and as soon as he turned around, he felt the down-to-earth touch again.

The stone basin was still shining in the cabinet in front of him, and Maka was still standing beside him, with a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from falling due to his unstable center of gravity.

.

"...Mr. Crouch...Mr. Crouch?"

Old Barty, who was still immersed in the last moment, stood in front of the stone basin absentmindedly. He felt Maka's call coming from far away, bringing his thoughts back to reality.

"Uh... thank you..." Old Barty turned his head and looked at Maka, who was supporting him, with a trace of confusion still in his eyes.

Seeing that Crouch had stood firm on his own, Maka stretched out her wand and stirred the pensieve again, then brought up the previous fluffy memory, and let it completely dissipate with a wave of her hand.

"...that...that key?"

As if he understood something, Old Batty subconsciously put his hand into his pants pocket, and tremblingly took out a brass key that was exactly the same as what he had just seen.

It was this brass key that little Barty used to trap his father in the magic box; it was also this key that Sirius, under Maka's request, removed old Barty from the magic box.

was rescued.

When Old Barty was rescued by Sirius, he was already in a state of dehydration. If Maka had not noticed the key, Old Barty, who was not rescued in time, would probably have died of thirst in the box.

Even Maka couldn't tell whether Barty's last action was a coincidence.

But now, what the facts are is no longer that important.

"...Thank you...Yes, thank you..."

Old Barty's eyes moved from the key to Maka's face, and he thanked him sincerely.

He may be thanking Maka for indirectly saving his life, or maybe he is thanking Maka for letting him see what he wants to see...

Maka just nodded, and then watched Old Barty say goodbye to Dumbledore and Moody, and then walked away slowly with his back bent. It was as if he came here today just to take a good look at Maka.

He looked ordinary and barely said a few words.

"Mr. Crouch has just returned from the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said softly, looking at the door to the principal's office that had been closed again. "He told me that he had resigned just now. Next, he plans to adopt one or two

Orphans, and then accompany them to grow up well."

"Single-parent families are not easy." Maka shrugged.

Mad-Eye glanced at him and said casually: "The Crouch family is only short of people now, not money."

"They are not short of money, but we are!" Dumbledore joked, "Maka, how is the situation at the new stronghold? I'm afraid such an old house needs more effort to renovate it, right?"

…

It was early in the morning. On Maka's side, the old man and the young man were chatting, but Harry had just woken up.

This scarred boy, who wears a pair of black-rimmed glasses from morning to night and likes to lift his belt whenever he has nothing to do, has suddenly kept a low profile since he almost caused irreversible consequences in his second project.

.

He felt very sorry, really sorry!

Even though he had already received the forgiveness of the person involved, he still couldn't let it go. He didn't know how long this suppressed emotion would last, maybe one or two months? One or two years?

Or for a lifetime?

Maybe time will dilute all this? I'm just not ready yet!

I need to take a little more time...

Harry lay with his head up on the bed, looking at the curtain above his head, recalling the past few years since he came to Hogwarts.

Whether others regard him as a savior or a plague, Harry Potter is always a popular boy. Here, it seems that everyone knows him, and everyone knows the past that even he himself does not know.

But the foundation of this popularity is based on that person who is so scary that he doesn't even dare to name it - oh, remember Maka said, it seems to be because of some name magic?

Well! All in all, others know him because of Voldemort!

And the word "Voldemort" has always represented cruelty, panic and death... Harry Potter really doesn't want the fame associated with such a terrible guy if possible!

With a long sigh, Harry stood up. When he finished washing in a hurry, he found that Ron was still asleep on the bed!

Harry has actually noticed recently that Ron and Hermione seem to be a little strange. But he himself is very bored! He really has no time to worry about their affairs.

Is this just a quarrel? How many times has this happened?

Just a few days ago, they seemed to have reconciled again...not for anything else, just because when Harry woke up to drink water at night, he could hear Ron's snoring again.

Harry did not disturb Ron's sleep, but turned around and left the dormitory, heading outside to the common room.

A new day has begun again, and he must prepare for the third event of the top three competition.

The troubles in his heart could only continue to be buried deep in his heart. He had to act as relaxed as usual, and he couldn't let Ron and Hermione worry about him instead...

Ron's exams would end on the third project day, and he should have taken the time to review, but he was very enthusiastic about helping Harry and Hermione prepare - although sometimes it was a little unhelpful.

"Don't worry," Ron said nonchalantly when Harry pointed out the review problem to him and suggested that he and Hermione could practice by themselves, "at least I can get a high grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Point...even Mad-Eye Moody would not teach so many spells in class!"

"And..." Ron said, and suddenly tried the obstacle spell on a wasp that buzzed into the room, causing it to suddenly stop in mid-air, and then he said excitedly, "...this will be very useful to me in the future.

Aurors are good training."

"You want to be an Auror?" Harry asked in surprise.

Ron tilted his head in embarrassment and said, "It's just talk...it's cool, isn't it?"

As time passed day by day, it was already June without realizing it, and the atmosphere in the castle became tense and exciting again.

Everyone is looking forward to the third competition which will be held one week before the holiday.

Harry and Hermione practiced spells whenever they had free time. It could be seen that both of them worked very hard, because they clearly felt the lack of their own strength.

Judging from the first two projects, this third project is definitely a journey full of hardships and dangers.

Professor McGonagall kept catching Harry, Hermione and Ron practicing around the school, so she allowed them to use the Transfiguration classroom during lunch time.

At the same time, the world outside the school was also undergoing earth-shaking changes, and the messy information was spread to the ears of students through various channels.

As Maka said, there are indeed a lot of frequent and trivial actions on Voldemort's side, ranging from roadside thefts to large house explosions. Various cases are rapidly consuming the Ministry of Magic's security capabilities.

But hidden among them are the fierce collisions between the new Order of the Phoenix and the old Death Eaters.

It was not convenient for Maka to take action directly for the time being. However, the potions he provided from time to time made him an excellent logistician that was unanimously praised by all members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius now sends an owl to deliver messages to Harry every day. Like Ron, he seems to be focused on helping Harry pass the third project before he will consider other things.

In each letter, he reminded Harry that you had no responsibility for matters outside Hogwarts, and you had no ability to influence them.

Early this morning, when Harry was reading Sirius's letter again, an owl brought Hermione the morning's "Daily Prophet" as usual.

She opened the newspaper, glanced at the front page out of habit, and immediately squirted all the pumpkin juice on the newspaper.