The Occult Warlock of Hogwarts

Instead of believing that Voldemort would repent, it would be better to believe that Merlin came back from the dead and participated in the Holy Grail War and then blew up the golden dog's head. But DeWitt did show a convincing attitude and said as if he had compromised: "

So what does this have to do with resurrection?"

"I'm looking for an opportunity to make up for my mistakes," Voldemort said piously: "Oh... I made a mistake... A mature body can better enable me to make up for it..."

DeWitt's expression looked like he had eaten a fly. He frowned in disgust, pulled down the corners of his mouth, and finally resigned himself to asking abruptly, "Aren't you tired?".

"What?"

"You are pretending like this - you must hate me in your heart," DeWitt said in his heart: "And I have lost my patience a long time ago. You think you can paralyze me with this gesture, you think you can create a

There is an atmosphere of honesty and honesty, but the reason why you did this is because you know that no matter how much you resist, it will be useless, and I never believe in the sinner's baseless confession. To put it simply..." He waved his hand,

The wand turned into a sword and stabbed straight into Voldemort's ugly little head.

At this time, the second half of the words came out: "I thought about the possibility of cooperating with you, but when I saw your ugliness, your hypocrisy, and your evilness - I really couldn't bear it. I couldn't help it.

Hold back your nausea and only consider the interests. Rather than interests, I just want to see you suffer."

However, Voldemort laughed loudly: "Then you should know better! My delaying time is useful!"

The tip of the sword pierced the empty space, and Voldemort disappeared from his seat.

The Death Eaters outside rushed in, waving their wands as if they were dead, releasing magic one after another. At the same time, DeWitt also disappeared from the place, with blazing flames surrounding his body, and the magic weapon in his hand.

The blade was burned to a translucent state. The fire flashed from one end of the corridor to the other. The four Death Eaters were cut in half and their wounds were scorched. They let out miserable wails. They could still kick one or two more times with their legs, and their hands could still

While swinging with all his strength, the four different faces were twisted into weird shapes in equal amounts of horror and fear. DeWitt put away his sword. He first absorbed the secret source of two of the Death Eaters while it was hot, and then used the fresh secret source.

Force activated the curse on Voldemort - letting Voldemort escape was part of the plan, but Voldemort also had to pay the price.

Voldemort, who was taken away by Barty Crouch Jr., felt severe pain. His young body was covered with dense green blisters, and putrid body fluids spurted out from inside. He screamed in pain and cursed furiously with words.

DeWitt, even Barty Crouch Jr. couldn't understand his master's nonsense. This loyal servant of Voldemort didn't dare to stop yet. He ran away desperately, and together with his master, he completely lost his mind about DeWitt.

I didn’t let my opportunity go on purpose.

In the current Crouch Manor, DeWitt was absorbing the secret source of the remaining two Death Eaters. When the secret source was replenished, he waved his hand to drive away the stench of burning flesh and flesh at the tip of his nose, and then faced the situation that had completely quieted down.

The eight pieces of corpses used the disappearing spell. Then they moved freely in the Crouch family's manor. Following some details and traces of magic, they found Barty Crouch Sr. in a bedroom.

This senior official of the Ministry of Magic, an old man who was civilized with toughness and iron-bloodedness when Voldemort was not dead, is in a coma. His face is thin, his hair is messy, and his clothes have been stripped down to his underwear. DeWitt cannot see the ugly old body.

He took out a flower from the flower pot on the side in disgust, turned the flower into a stick and poked Barty Crouch Sr.'s hairy belly. After receiving no response, he threw the stick aside and let the magic on it slow down.

Slowly disappearing, the stick returned to the shape of a flower, and then used several healing spells on Old Barty Crouch - regardless of whether the man was injured or not, in short, the physical bed and mental frustrations were relieved.

.Finally, Barty Crouch Sr. woke up, but he was still very weak.

"Hello." DeWitt looked down at the fallen Barty Crouch Sr., folded his hands on his chest, and said expressionlessly.

Mr. Crouch grabbed DeWitt's trousers and groaned, as if he had lost his proficiency in speaking. The first words broke into several repeated syllables: "God... God... Mysterious...

People...and...and...my son..." His cloudy eyes widened in horror and said: "It's my son. He attacked me and took the Death Eaters to find Dumbledore.

..."

DeWitt waited for a while and saw Mr. Crouch's anxious face. After confirming that he had nothing else to say, he said: "The Death Eater is dead, and your son ran away with Voldemort."

Mr. Crouch was dumbfounded, drooling from the corner of his mouth because of disbelief. The transparent liquid streaked across the wrinkles on his aging face, as if he couldn't understand human words.

"Get up," DeWitt said: "You have recovered now, you have fully recovered, but the illusion of mental inertia dominates you - when you are ready, go to the living room and wait for me, you will not run away

Right?"

Mr. Crouch nodded dully, rubbing the side of his face against the floor several times.

"Very good." DeWitt glanced at the death totem that had just been summoned and was looming behind Mr. Crouch, then turned and left. He found a way to contact Ms. Feier and asked Ms. Feier to rush over. Then

After waiting with Ms. Feier for nearly twenty minutes, Mr. Crouch came down from the second floor. He put on a neat suit and sat down in front of the "mother and son" as if he were at work - it could be seen that he wanted to

He assumed a serious posture of sitting upright, but his spine collapsed unconsciously.

DeWitt took off his hat, revealing his young and upright face.

One can imagine Mr. Crouch's shock. His neck jerked unnaturally and he whispered in surprise: "It's you?"

"You know me?" DeWitt was also a little surprised.

"You are the boyfriend of Hermione Granger, the champion of Hogwarts," Mr. Crouch could accept any situation now. He said numbly: "I remember you, and the Quidditch World Cup..."
"Oh, it seems you have a good memory," DeWitt said approvingly: "But I don't want to hear this now, I want to hear...your son, do you know where to start?"

Mr. Crouch closed his eyes that were flashing with pain, and the muscles all over his body were stiff, showing his inner resistance, but he still said after opening his eyes: "My son... is a Death Eater...

”

DeWitt frowned impatiently.

Mr. Crouch immediately trimmed the already concise ideas again and summarized the bloody past in cold and ruthless language: "I personally sentenced him to be imprisoned in Azkaban. The final decision was the death penalty, but my wife was unwilling to accept it.

, she went to visit the prison with me when she was seriously ill, and used Polyjuice Potion as a substitute for death. I took away the son who became my wife, and then announced that my wife had died of illness, and then began to let the house elves perform soul-seizing on my son.

Curse until the Imperius Curse expires at the Quidditch World Cup..."

"Then it was your son who found Voldemort? Then Voldemort began to seek resurrection..." DeWitt rested his elbows on the armrests of the chair and moved his crossed fingers. He said a little troubled: "Why even this

Under such circumstances, can Voldemort still set up such a big stall?"

"It is the market for pure-blood theories," Mr. Crouch said numbly: "Wizards who want to be superior to others follow it fanatically."

"Then what do you think of the pure-blood theory?" DeWitt continued to ask, which made Mr. Crouch a little strange - why does Ms. Feier, who is obviously an adult, not speak, but always let such a child make up her mind?<

/p>

"I have no opinion." He said decisively.

"Let me think about it," DeWitt said without concealing the joking in his tone: "You are a beneficiary of the pure blood theory, so you don't oppose it, but you know the backwardness of this theory, so you don't support it - I conclude

Is it in place? Of course, you may not have thought about this problem, but if you think about it carefully, you will find that your thinking is so contradictory - because you know that this problem exists, and you have done nothing, even in

Sometimes I am willing to take advantage of the convenience it brings."

"You're right," Mr. Crouch said, closing his eyes again: "If it weren't for blood, I wouldn't be where I am today, and I wouldn't have the opportunity to visit my son who was sentenced to death."

"If you were given another chance," DeWitt asked, "what would you do at sentencing?"

"Death penalty!" Mr. Crouch said firmly while holding down the armrest of the chair and suddenly jumping up, with his butt a certain distance away from the seat, maintaining a half-standing and half-sitting posture.

"It seems that you still maintain a fair and impartial image." Mr. Crouch could hear DeWitt's sarcasm, and then DeWitt asked Ms. Feier: "Do you think he lied?"

Ms. Feier replied dryly: "That's what he thinks."

"Then if it happened again," DeWitt asked again, "would you trade your dying wife for your son?"

Mr. Crouch sat back heavily. He was dejected, but he met Ms. Feier's gaze without any fear of being used Legilimency and said: "No, I won't."

"What do you think of your son?"

"His mistake..." Mr. Crouch said with hatred and sadness: "To a large extent, it is attributed to me. My wife and I did not educate him well. He made a mistake that should be punished with death...

And I...and I..."

"Family love and legal principles are indeed a cruel choice, but the fundamental reason is that the family has chosen two incompatible paths and neither party has the intention to compromise," DeWitt said: "What do you think of Voldemort?"

p>

"I may want to kill him more than Dumbledore," Mr. Crouch's eyes seemed to be burning with gray flames. He said paranoidly: "This is to express anger. I know it is to express anger. I have already put my

The fault, my son’s fault, and the irreparable death are all attributed to the mysterious man.”

"The next question," DeWitt nodded and said: "How are you going to repay me?"

Mr. Crouch obviously did not realize that his thoughts were induced by the mind control spell. Low-intensity mind control can have a similar effect. In his eyes, DeWitt's current image is unattainable and trustworthy.

, so he said: "I will listen to your arrangements."

"Then make an oath." DeWitt said easily.

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