When Maka stepped on the firelight and followed Mad-Eye quietly into the principal's office, what he could feel was a heavy tranquility.
Dumbledore was sitting behind the desk, white light reflected on the half-moon lenses, and pale blue eyes looming behind the glass.
In front of the desk, Barty Crouch was standing there with his head lowered, as if he was remembering something, and his back looked so depressed.
"Mr. Crouch... I am the one who sent your child away with my own hands."
Maka's words were not loud, but when they suddenly rang out in the silent principal's office, they were like thunder from the ground, suddenly exploding in Crouch's ears.
However, Maka did not wait for the scolding and scolding he imagined, even though he thought it would definitely make the old father feel better.
"Thank you… "
What kind of complicated emotions caused an old father who had just lost his child to say "thank you" with a dry throat
The answer came quickly, but it was a little caught off guard.
"Thank you for doing what I have never been able to do. I don't blame you..."
Maka couldn't help but suddenly realized.
He could even imagine how conflicted and painful this old father felt when he faced his child's paranoid behavior again and again, even locking his own father at home and almost starving to death.
Barty Crouch is not a saint who adheres to the concept of good and evil. He has also sacrificed all kinds of care for his family for the sake of his career.
When Barty Crouch Jr.'s identity as a Death Eater was suddenly exposed, it was he who, as the Director of the Department of Legal Enforcement, personally sentenced his son Barty Jr. to Azkaban.
But despite the cries and pleas of his seriously ill wife, he secretly moved Barty out of Azkaban, and the price he paid was his wife's remaining life.
He resorted to various means, even using the Imperius Curse and the invisibility cloak to restrict Barty Jr., to prevent his restless son from appearing in public again, and accidentally losing his hard-earned second life. .
But even so, he still knew his son's character very well.
To be honest, his son is very smart—even smarter than himself! It's probably only a matter of time before he can quietly escape from his many restrictions.
But, can a father attack his own son
No, let alone others, at least he couldn't do it at all. He had understood this from the beginning.
"There is something I think you need to know..." Maka nodded calmly, "When everything is over, your son Barty Crouch Jr. will serve as a spy against Voldemort. Known.”
"Although he may not be so willing...but I believe that he will have enough time to think and feel the beauty of being truly grateful and admired by others."
"As Professor Dumbledore often said - for a wizard, death is never the end."
Even Maka is far from understanding the true meaning of this sentence, but in this world, there is probably no one more qualified to say this than him.
"I don't know if he can understand this truth..." Crouch sighed softly, and there was a glint in his bloodshot eyes.
"Well, there are some other things that I would like to ask you to take a look at..." Maka said, looking back at Dumbledore, "Professor, I would like to borrow your pensieve."
Dumbledore was looking at Maka now, and when he heard the request, he smiled and nodded.
Maka also nodded to Dumbledore, then turned around and took a few steps, gently opening a black cabinet door.
Suddenly, a gleaming silver water light gradually spread, attracting the attention of everyone present.
In the black vertical cabinet, there is a delicate white stone platform. There is a shallow stone basin sunken on the stone platform, and the mouth of the basin is engraved with dense circles of letters and symbols.
Those silver lights are emitted by the things in the basin. They look like liquids, but the slightly rising feeling is like a gas.
It is like a piece of bright mercury, constantly rotating and flowing, creating layers of ripples, elegant and dreamy.
At this time, Maka took out the wand from his cuff, put it against his temple and slowly pulled it out, and a bunch of the same silver-white floc was gently pulled out along with the tip of his wand.
There is no incantation for extracting memory magic. It can be regarded as a by-product of practicing soul magic.
Generally speaking, any wizard who masters both "Occlumency" and "Legilimency" can do this after some research and some tips on transfiguration.
After placing the fluffy silver wire into the pensieve, Maka stirred it with her wand, and the silver flowing in the basin immediately began to spin faster.
"Mr. Crouch, please look—"
He stood aside, made room in front of the pensieve, and extended his hand to signal.
Crouch stepped forward and looked down.
The silver object became transparent and looked like glass. He leaned forward and looked carefully, but he did not see the bottom of the stone basin.
"That is-"
Crouch seemed to have seen something. He murmured in a low voice, but before he finished speaking, he found that he was already in a forest...
"Mr. MacLean?"
The first thing he saw was a frowning Maka walking towards him.
But when he wanted to step forward and ask, he found that Maka walked straight towards him as if she hadn't seen him, and passed through his body when he backed away in panic.
"Damn...McLean, you're finally here!"
Accompanied by a chattering sound of teeth, a mellow but somewhat dry male voice came from behind Crouch.
Crouch turned around and immediately recognized the man sitting against the tree trunk, shivering.
Although he is different from the gentleman with a polished appearance and pretentious elegance in the past, he will never admit his mistake. He is obviously the "great writer" who is still widely loved by women and children in the wizarding world, Gilderoy Lockhart. .
And right at Lockhart's feet, Barty Crouch Jr., who was stiff all over, seemed to be in a deep coma.
"Is this...in McClain's memory?"
Judging from Maka's previous behavior, it is not difficult for normal people to analyze this conclusion.
"Stop complaining. I know it's hard for you to be cold and hungry here... but I'm not much better than you!" Maka waved her hand impatiently and looked at little Barty lying on the ground.
At this time, Maka had just spent that frightening night. To be honest, it was pretty good that he could leave Luna's hospital room and run to the Forbidden Forest to wrap up the matter.
"How's it going? Has he ever woken up?" Maka asked.
"No, I have been giving him the stun spell, otherwise I may not be able to completely control him." Lockhart rubbed his arms and trembled all over.
"Fortunately, you finally know that you can't light a fire to keep warm here..."
Maka said, squatting down and stretching out her wand, and nodded towards little Barty.
The next moment, little Barty, who was still in a coma, immediately woke up and squinted his eyes to look at the surrounding situation alertly.
"Barty Crouch Jr., can you figure out what's going on?"
Under Maka's seemingly impatient inquiry, little Barty's eyes widened immediately, and he struggled in great annoyance. He touched his waist but did not find his wand.
"No need to resist, you have no chance."
Maka just waved her wand in front of his eyes, causing him to immediately calm down. There was nothing he could do about it. He was frightened by Maka's soul magic, and the bone-deep fear had already taken root in his soul. .
Admirers of black magic like Barty Jr. are usually the ones who are most in awe of black magic.
"You betrayed the master! You betrayed the Dark Lord!" Although little Barty no longer dared to struggle, he still shouted with a ferocious expression.
But Maka shook her head.
"Me? Betrayed Voldemort?" He chuckled, "I have never been his subordinate, even in front of him, I said so..."
After saying that, Maka thought for a moment, and then continued: "I can give you a chance, a chance to atone for yourself and your father - as long as you prove in front of the public that Voldemort has returned in full force, then How about you not having to die?"
"Proof? Huh... will you believe what I say? Ridiculous!" Little Barty sneered contemptuously and turned his head to the side.
"Me?" Maka shook her head, "No, no, no, it's not me you should trust, but the entire magical world! Do you understand?"
"Tell you! It's impossible!" Little Barty shouted loudly, "I will never betray my master! The Dark Lord's magic power is boundless!"
Maka's eyes twitched, and he raised the wand, but after a pause, he put it down again.
"Even if you don't think about yourself, don't you really think about your father?" He asked coldly, "Even if it's for your mother who sacrificed herself in Azkaban for you?"
"Father... Hahaha! You want me to think about the father who only sees the position of Minister of Magic? You want me to think about the ignorant mother who only wants me to learn from that idiot father? Hahahaha... Cough cough cough …”
Little Barty smiled like a maniac, waving his arms like a madman, and his laughter was full of scorn for Maka's persuasive words.
On the side, Old Barty Crouch's face was full of pain and regret - wasn't he the one who raised such an unrepentant son
"Cough cough cough..."
He seemed to be choking on his saliva, and he was coughing so hard that one could not help but worry that he would cough out his lungs.