Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 486 Because You Have No Love
Sherlock and his group walked out of the Minister of Magic's office.

He no longer cared about what the Ministry of Magic was going to do next.

No matter what they do, they definitely won't be able to catch Barty Crouch Jr.

He looked at Dumbledore: "Professor, I would like to speak with Mr. Crouch again."

Upon hearing Sherlock's words, Dumbledore's gaze sharpened slightly: "What else do you want to know?"

"Indeed, some clues may require more direct questioning to clarify."

"Okay, leave it to me."

Dumbledore nodded.

Soon, Sherlock stood next to a puzzled Barty Crouch.

Dumbledore stood aside, making sure that no one else could hear their conversation.

"Holmes, you..."

"It's Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock, unlike Percy, directly corrected Crouch's mistake and then cut straight to the heart of the matter:

“Mr. Crouch, you just mentioned that Barty Crouch Jr. hasn’t left the house for several years, is that right?”

"Yes."

Barty Crouch nodded, but didn't understand why Sherlock was asking this.

"From your description just now, and from Minister Fudge's previous account, you were indeed very wary of your son at first, even resorting to using the Soul-Stealing Curse."

But as time goes on, you will inevitably let your guard down—that's a given, and it's only human nature.

As you just mentioned, when Barty Crouch Jr. does well, the house-elf will persuade you to give him some special treatment as a reward.

I think the reward will definitely include going out for some fresh air, right?

So, what prompted you to imprison him for years beforehand, preventing him from leaving the house?

Barty Crouch stiffened almost imperceptibly. He didn't answer immediately, but his gaze toward Sherlock was full of vigilance.

This little wizard is no ordinary person.

But Crouch didn't believe that the other party could see through his concealed truth simply by observing him.

However, I still need to think of a way to get through this.

However, he still underestimated Sherlock.

Sherlock gave him no chance to catch his breath and continued to ask:
"Mr. Crouch, you should be familiar with the name Bertha Jorkins, shouldn't you?"

Upon hearing this name, Barty Crouch's eyes immediately lit up with wariness.

This little wizard is more than just extraordinary.
They have an incredible ability to understand people's hearts!
If he hadn't known it was impossible, he would have even suspected that the other party had used Legilimency on him!
"As far as I know, over the years, Bertha Jorkins has been moved from one department to another, causing more trouble than she has done."

Everyone thought she was a very forgetful person, so much so that no one worried when she was missing for more than a month.

Everyone just thought she had no sense of time and would come back on her own in a week or two.

At this point, Sherlock's voice grew increasingly heavy:
"The problem is that her memory didn't suddenly become so bad."

It is unusual for a witch to experience such a sudden and severe decline in memory.

Coincidentally, her last period of normal work coincided with your company—the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation.

"Holmes, what exactly are you trying to say?"

"I want to ask you, before this dramatic change occurred, did she ever visit your residence?"

Or perhaps, in a moment when you weren't paying attention, she saw someone who shouldn't have been there?

Crouch did not answer, doing his best to maintain a calm expression.

But even the slightest change in expression did not escape Sherlock's keen eyes.

Sherlock's reasoning became even more certain:

“I think Bertha Jorkins must have run into Barty Crouch Jr., who was under your Imperius Curse, right?”
To protect this deadly secret, you cast an extremely powerful and brutal oblivion spell on her.

This spell likely caused irreversible and severe damage to her mind, which led to her subsequent amnesia that made her seem like a completely different person.

So since then, after she left the International Magical Exchange and Cooperation Department, you have strictly forbidden Barty Crouch Jr. from going out.

Am I right, Mr. Crouch?

Crouch's fingers clenched tightly around the edge of his robe when no one was looking, his knuckles turning white.

Sherlock didn't stop there; he threw out the most crucial deduction, one that his opponent could not evade:
"Then, just a few months ago, Bertha Jorkins, whose memory was impaired and whose vigilance had greatly diminished, mysteriously disappeared while on vacation in Albania."

Note that it's Albania!

"Any questions?"

“Barty, Voldemort had been hiding in the forests of Albania until now.”

Dumbledore spoke up at the opportune moment, answering Barty Crouch's question.

"You mean...that's impossible, maybe it's just a coincidence..."

"No, this is not a coincidence."

Sherlock shook his head. "When all other possibilities are eliminated, the one that remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

When the lone and disoriented Bertha Jorkins appeared in Albania, she was discovered by Voldemort.

"With Voldemort's abilities, restoring Bertha Jorkins' memories shouldn't be too difficult, sir?"

Sherlock's second half of the sentence was addressed to Dumbledore, who nodded:
"It's not difficult. He's a master of Occlumency, and his skill in manipulating people's minds should never be underestimated, and..."

Dumbledore looked at Barty Crouch, leaving the rest of his words unsaid.

"And the Oblivion Curse that Mr. Crouch cast was very powerful, even a bit too powerful."

Sherlock picked up where Dumbledore left off and continued:

"As the saying goes, too much of a good thing is bad. That's why it's easier for Voldemort to get the truth!"

He forcibly extracted crucial information about your son's whereabouts from her damaged memory fragments!

"This is just your inference; there's no evidence!"

"No, the fact that they were able to find Barty Crouch Jr. so quickly and rescue him is proof of that."

The Death Eaters who were causing chaos conveniently facilitated these events; if I were Voldemort, I would never have let such an opportunity pass me by.

Faced with Sherlock's rigorous logic and cold facts, Barty Crouch swayed violently, as if all the strength he had been holding on had been instantly drained away.

However, the next moment, Sherlock said again:

"Of course, this is still just my speculation."

If you refuse to admit it, there's nothing I can do.

However… given Voldemort's brutal nature, Bertha Jorkins is most likely dead and will never return.

Upon hearing this, Barty Crouch's taut, steel-like face completely crumbled.

A profound weariness and deep-seated regret overwhelmed him. His sunken eyes seemed to grow even darker at that moment.

"Yes."

Finally, he managed to squeeze those two words out of his dry throat with great difficulty.

The sound was hoarse and broken, almost inaudible, yet it struck the ground heavily.

You're right...

Barty Crouch closed his eyes in pain, then opened them a moment later.

His gaze toward Sherlock was filled with despair and a sense of resigned defeat.

"Bertha's situation... was an accident."

She came to my house with the documents for me to sign, but I wasn't home at the time. The little fairy led her into the house.

When I returned, Bertha confronted me directly.

He was in the kitchen at the time, and the elf was taking care of him.

Even though she was behind the invisibility cloak, I guess she overheard the house-elf's conversation with him and deduced who was hiding under the cloak from what she heard.

"So you cast a forgetting spell on her?"

"I can't... I absolutely can't take that risk..."

So I used an extremely powerful forgetting spell on her, far exceeding the normal strength...

This made her completely forget the secret she had discovered.

"Just as you said, Holmes, the curse was too powerful; it caused permanent damage to her memory."

He took a deep breath, because the memory itself was burning inside him:
"After that, she was no longer the same Bertha..."

Later, when news of her disappearance came, I was very concerned about it.

But I never expected her to... It's all my fault, all my fault. I did something stupid, an absolutely stupid thing.

At this point, Crouch seemed to age ten years in an instant.

Since he was able to admit to this, it also proved that he believed Sherlock's deduction.

He's a smart man; it's no coincidence that Barty Crouch Jr. was kidnapped so quickly.

Therefore, he also understood that the crime he committed to cover up one crime ultimately led to disastrous consequences.

His son fell into the hands of the most ruthless enemy, and he himself was not only a lawbreaker but also an indirect instigator of this enormous crisis.

Seeing Barty Crouch's pained expression, Sherlock suddenly spoke:
“Mr. Crouch, you are actually very proud of your son, aren’t you?”

"You, how did you..."

Barty Crouch jerked his head up, his face showing a shock more intense than when Sherlock had revealed any secret before—a shock as if his deepest inner self had been suddenly pierced.

This matter is even more deeply buried than his secret removal of Barty Crouch Jr. from Azkaban and his use of the Oblivion Curse on Bertha Jorkins.

But on this one occasion, he clearly didn't say anything!

Sherlock met Crouch's shocked gaze, his voice steady yet penetrating:

“'You,' Mr. Crouch.”

That's the problem—or more accurately, it's 'his' problem.

Crouch's confusion deepened.

Sherlock deliberately slowed his speech so that Crouch, whose mental state was currently unstable, could hear him more clearly:
"Throughout the conversation, when you mentioned your son, the one who ruined your reputation, led you to use the illegal Imperius Curse, and was ultimately kidnapped because of your poor decisions..."

You never called him 'my son' or by his name.

From beginning to end, you used "he" as the coldest and most distant third-person pronoun to refer to him.

This is a deliberate act of alienation. This almost pathological choice of a form of address that distances itself from blood ties reveals an extremely intense emotional conflict.

A deep emotional bond, one you desperately want to deny but which is ingrained in your very being, is tearing at you.

Crouch's breathing became heavier, and his hands, resting on his robe, trembled slightly.

"In fact, I had already noticed it when Fudge told us all this."

Look at what you've done: using an illegal and extremely dangerous Imperius Curse to control him.

This is not just about punishing a criminal, Mr. Crouch.

The control over the Soul Reaper's Curse gives you a docile, obedient, and even well-behaved son.

You have reshaped a son to fit your ideal image, attempting to turn him from a fallen follower of the demon king back to the righteous path you envision.

Sherlock paused, then continued:

"You just mentioned that, after being persuaded by the pet Pokémon at home, you finally agreed to take him out."

Going to the Quidditch World Cup is not a simple reward for a prisoner.

What was you hoping for deep down at that moment?
What I hope for is that the son you successfully transformed can briefly reintegrate into the magical world—even if it's under the cover of an invisibility cloak.

Did a secret fantasy arise in your heart or subconscious at that moment?

Imagine him becoming your pride, the respectable heir of the Crouch family, just as you hoped years ago.
The deliberate distance you maintained when talking about him, the resolute attitude you showed when faced with the heinous crimes he committed...

Beneath this fiercely resistant exterior lies precisely the truth you fear most being revealed: a betrayed, distorted, and almost humiliating sense of pride.

"Yes……"

After a brief silence, Crouch finally spoke.

However, his voice sounded somewhat low and hoarse.

“You’re right, Holmes… damn it… you’re right about everything…”

His gaze seemed to pierce through the dust of time, returning to a past that had been deliberately sealed away but was now crystal clear due to the intense pain.

"Many years ago, he earned a total of twelve OWLs certificates, which was very impressive. Yes, I am really proud of him."

I took my wife and him to the concert with the Fudges, and I tried to put him in the spotlight, even if only for a moment.

On that occasion, I thought it was the beginning of honor, proof that the Crouch name had a worthy successor…

He shook his head in anguish, his voice filled with devastating despair:

“I had too high expectations of him…it was like putting him on the edge of a cliff…”

"Therefore, when faith collapses, the sense of falling and betrayal is especially intense."

The harsh, almost cruel, imprisonment and control you imposed on him stemmed precisely from your deeply ingrained, impermissible system of standards.

"Excuse my bluntness, Batty."

Dumbledore, who hadn't said much until now, suddenly spoke up:

"All of this has little to do with your expectations of him. As far as I know, he doesn't even know what you expect of him."

The real reason he's ended up like this is because you didn't give him the 'love' he deserved.

(End of this chapter)