This Hogwarts isn't normal.

The second round of qualifiers for each major region of the Quidditch World Cup has officially begun, and the teams that qualify will qualify for the semifinals to be held in France early next month.

The British Quidditch hooligans have finally stopped, not only because there have been no British team games recently, but also because Peter Pettigrew's execution day is approaching.

On the morning of July 21,

The woman finally walked out of the Black Forest of Albania and came to the UK, two thousand kilometers away.

She seemed to be very afraid of the sun. She was wearing a tattered black cloak and holding a swaddled baby in her arms.

She walked aimlessly until a deep, hoarse voice sounded.

"First go to my most loyal servant...Jorkins..."

This zombie-like woman turned out to be Bertha Jorkins traveling to Albania.

But she was completely different now. She was as thin as skin and bones, and she even exuded a terrifying aura of black magic.

No, that breath came from the source of the sound, which was the swaddled baby.

Jorkins stiffly took out his wand and cast his entourage to appear in front of a quaint mansion.

She walked straight towards the closed door when a female house elf suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Please stay, this is Crouch's house, and Winky can't let strangers get close to her."

Jorkins didn't pause at all, and the elf named Shining had no choice but to open his hands and stop in front of the door.

"Please stop immediately, Mr. Crouch will be back soon."

"Get rid of it..."

Jorkins slowly raised his wand and pointed it at Winky in front of him.

The red curse shattered the door, but the shining figure disappeared.

"Hey...don't worry about it for now..."

Jorkins walked into the mansion with the swaddled baby in his arms.

She climbed the stairs and came to a room, her eyes fixed on an empty chair.

"You are indeed alive...my most loyal servant..."

Jorkins walked up to the chair and bent over it with the swaddle in his arms.

A pale little hand stretched out from the swaddling clothes and lifted it up as if it had grabbed something.

There was a man sitting on the chair.

His face was extremely pale, he had blond hair, and his eyes were as dull as Jorkins.

"Wake up...my most loyal servant..."

The pale little hand gently placed on his forehead, as if releasing the magic that bound him.

The terrifying aura passed by in a flash, and the man's eyes slowly regained their vitality, focusing on the swaddled baby in front of him.

"My master..." He knelt on the ground with a pious face, "I knew you would definitely come back, you would definitely come back."

"Oh..." The baby sneered and opened the swaddling clothes covering itself, revealing an even paler and ugly face.

The man quickly lowered his head, "Master, all my loyalty belongs to you, to the eternal Dark Lord, and to my only master, Voldemort."

There are only a handful of Death Eaters who can call Voldemort by his first name, and they are either dead or imprisoned in Azkaban forever, without exception.

And this man named Barty is none other than Barty Crouch Jr., who was sent to Azkaban by his biological father and has been dead for many years.

…

…

In the dirty and dilapidated alleys,

Winky, the Crouch house elf, was stumbling toward a red phone booth.

Although it disapparated in time, it was still hit on the shoulder by Jorkins' magic.

Wincing was under the influence of the powerful coma spell, panting and opened the door of the phone booth, struggled to pick up the phone and pressed the numbers "62442".

A cold female voice came from the air: "Welcome to the British Ministry of Magic, please tell me your name and what you are here to do."

Twinkle collapsed to the ground helplessly, shouting with all her strength before losing consciousness:

"Mr. Crouch, I want to see Mr. Crouch, I want to tell him... tell him..."

After a moment of silence, the cold female voice in the air sounded again: "Mr. Crouch? Is he Director Barty Crouch of the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation?"

The unconscious Twinkle couldn't answer her question.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

Main hall of the Ministry of Magic,

A receptionist put down the wand in her hand with a puzzled look on her face.

Something was definitely happening over there at the phone booth, but she didn't seem worried at all.

She reported to her superiors in accordance with the rules and regulations, and then continued to sit at the counter.

More than half an hour later, after a series of tedious and inefficient notifications, the news was finally delivered to Percy in the International Magic Exchange and Cooperation Department on the fifth floor.

As Barty Sr.'s personal assistant, Percy naturally put down the information he was sorting out immediately and hurried to his office.

"Director, there is a house elf named Winky outside looking for you. It seems that it has something important to tell you."

Old Batty frowned, "I hired it to clean my house. Where is it now?"

"When colleagues from the department went up, they found that it had fainted. It should still be outside."

"I understand." Old Barty stood up with an unnatural expression, "Weatherby, I'm going out for a while, and you can just put the compiled information about the Triwizard Tournament on my desk."

"Okay, Director." Percy looked at the back of the figure anxiously leaving the office with a little surprise.

This was the first time that he saw his boss, who was strict and merciless in his work, acting so unstable.

Doesn't he look like someone who cares about house elves? Could it be that the house was robbed?

Percy shook his head hard and stopped making unwarranted guesses.

It is a taboo in the workplace to care too much about the leader's personal affairs, and it is also a taboo in the workplace to publicize the leader's private affairs everywhere.

If you have this time, you might as well quickly organize the information for the Triwizard Tournament, try your best to complete it before the leader comes back, and show off your excellent work ability.

…

…

Outside Crouch House,

Old Barty, who came by using Apparition, had learned through Twinkle that a mysterious woman had broken into the house.

He looked at the broken door, with a glimmer of hope in his calm eyes.

Although it was unlikely to be a robber, he still hoped that the woman was a robber.

He held the wand in his hand tightly and slowly walked into the home.

"Father!" A voice sounded from behind.

Old Barty turned around quickly, but the wand in his hand was knocked away by the disarming spell.

Little Barty, who was hiding in the corner, came to him tremblingly, "Father, when you cast the Imperius Curse on me every day, did you ever think that I would wake up one day?"

Old Barty looked quietly at his son's angry eyes, "Don't make the wrong choice again, I won't protect you a second time."

"Wrong? Huh -" Little Barty sneered: "Father, you don't believe my explanation at all. You personally forced me to do this!"

He smiled, and his expression gradually turned ferocious, "Also, it is my mother who protects me. You have never loved me. If my mother's serious illness had not been cured, you would not have agreed to her request!"

The remaining hope in old Batty's eyes completely disappeared.

Little Barty has regained his freedom, but as a father, he can no longer stop his crazy son.

…

…