Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 560 Sherlock, what do you think?
Unlike Dumbledore's first two memories, the atmosphere in the Ministry of Magic's courtroom in the third memory is somewhat peculiar.

The difference stemmed primarily from a suppressed sob.

Sherlock's gaze swept across the room and he saw a witch sitting next to Barty Crouch.

She was wrapped in a faded, dark green wizard's robe, her figure so thin she looked like a withered leaf, as if she would be blown away by the wind.

Her hands trembled violently as she clutched a handkerchief embroidered with silver thread, burying half her face in it.

His knuckles were bluish-white from excessive force, and every twitch of his shoulder revealed a heart-stopping fragility.

Sherlock's gaze then fell on Barty Crouch.

This high-ranking official from the Ministry of Magic, who was energetic and sharp-eyed in Dumbledore's first two memories, now seemed to have all his strength drained away.

His complexion was a dull, grayish-yellow, and the dark circles under his eyes were so heavy they looked like ink had been applied. A vein on his temple was throbbing uncontrollably.

Even the fingers resting on the edge of the table were trembling slightly.

This situation immediately made Sherlock realize that Barty Crouch already knew about his son Crouch Jr.

The woman beside him was naturally his wife.

Since she's here, that means...

The next moment, the door in the corner of the room opened.

This time, a total of six Dementors escorted four people in.

The people in the courtroom immediately stirred, turning to look at Crouch.

The whispers fell like fine raindrops, their eyes a mixture of sympathy and curiosity.

Everyone could guess what was about to happen.

The four people brought in by the Dementors were all locked in chairs.

The first man was short and stout, staring blankly at Crouch.

The second man was tall and thin, and seemed more nervous than the first.

Sherlock's gaze swept over the two men, and he quickly grasped their situation.

However, when he looked at the two people behind him, his gaze suddenly sharpened.

The third woman was actually the tallest of the four; Sherlock estimated she was nearly six feet tall.

In addition, she was unexpectedly beautiful, with long, thick, black hair and long eyelashes.

Of course, her appearance was not the reason Sherlock paid attention to her.

It's mainly her expression.

Compared to the other three, she didn't seem to be sitting on the judge's bench; rather, she seemed to be on the throne.

The last person was a boy of seventeen or eighteen.

He looked completely terrified, trembling all over, his straw-colored hair disheveled over his face, and his freckled skin as pale as paper.

As Sherlock suspected, he was indeed Barty Crouch's son, Barty Crouch Jr.

The moment Crouch Jr. appeared, Crouch's wife beside him began to sway back and forth, covering her mouth with a handkerchief and sobbing.

"You are brought before the Magic Law Committee to await sentencing; your crimes are so heinous—"

Before Barty Crouch could finish speaking, Crouch Jr. chimed in, "Father...please..."

However, Crouch raised his voice, drowning out his son's.

“It is rare in cases tried in this court to hear the charges against you four for kidnapping an Auror.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.

Sirius Black only mentioned that Crouch Jr. was with a few Death Eaters when he was captured, but I never expected him to do something like this.

"You kidnapped Frank Longbottom and used the Crucifixion on him."

The goal is to find out the whereabouts of your master, the one whose name cannot even be mentioned, from him.

"Since Frank Longbottom refused to provide information, you used the Cruciatus Curse on his wife, Alice Longbottom, ultimately driving both of them insane..."

Suddenly sensing something, Dumbledore turned to look at Sherlock.

He was surprised to find that the boy, who always gave a calm impression, was behaving somewhat abnormally at this moment.

Sherlock's hands, hanging by his sides, were not only white at the knuckles, but were also trembling slightly at an almost imperceptible frequency.

His gaze no longer swept around as before, but was fixed on Crouch Jr. and the other three Death Eaters, as if he wanted to peel away their disguises with his eyes.

At this moment, Dumbledore, standing beside Sherlock, seemed to be able to feel the boy's anger.

"Father, I didn't!"

Little Crouch began to scream, "I didn't, I swear, Father, don't send me back to the Dementors—"

"The charges also say..."

Crouch interrupted his son again, shouting:
"You are plotting to revive someone whose name cannot even be mentioned, hoping to restore the violent lifestyle you led during his powerful era."

Now I ask the jury—

"Mother!"

Little Crouch cried out again, "Mother, stop him! Mother, I didn't do those things! It wasn't me!"

“Now I ask the jury to vote,” Crouch said loudly. “Those who, like me, believe these crimes should be punished with life imprisonment in Azkaban, please raise your hands!”

Faced with such a heinous act, the wizards on the right side of the dungeon all raised their hands without hesitation.

No! Mother, no!
I didn't do it! It wasn't me, I don't know!

Don't send me there, stop him!

The Dementor slowly walked in again.

Compared to Crouch Jr., his three companions were much calmer; they silently stood up from their chairs.

The tall woman was particularly arrogant; she even raised her head and shouted:
"The Dark Lord will return, Crouch!"
Throw us into Azkaban, we'll be waiting!

He will come back to save us, and he will reward us handsomely!
Only we are loyal! Only we are trying to find him!

"I am your son!"

Even though the Dementors' effects were starting to take effect on Crouch Jr., he still shouted, "I am your son!"

“You are not my son!” Crouch roared, his eyes bulging outwards. “I have no son!”

Hearing her husband's resolute words, Mrs. Crouch gasped and collapsed onto the stool.

"Take them away!"

Crouch, however, seemed oblivious to this, and roared at the Dementors, "Take them away and let them rot there!"

"Father! Father, I didn't participate!"

No! No! Father, please!

Just then, Dumbledore said softly, "Sherlock, I think we should go back."

Sherlock nodded, then followed Dumbledore out of the Pensieve and back to the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore immediately looked at Sherlock and was somewhat surprised to find that he had returned to his usual calm demeanor.

This made Dumbledore feel both gratified and somewhat heartbroken.

Both Sherlock and Harry have endured things they shouldn't have had to bear at their age.

"Sherlock, what do you think?"

Sherlock had anticipated Dumbledore's question and was about to speak when Dumbledore suddenly said, "Oh, right, I almost forgot there's something else I need to show you." Under Sherlock's curious gaze, Dumbledore pulled his wand from his robes, inserted the tip into Sherlock's silver hair, and brought it close to his temple.

When he pulled out his wand, a small strand of memory stuck to the tip.

After this new idea was added to the basin, his own face began to float in meditation.

Then, his own face gradually transformed into Snape's face.

Snape opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

“It’s back… Karkaroff’s too…more obvious, clearer than ever before…”

"I see."

Sherlock immediately realized that Snape had informed Dumbledore of his meeting with Karkaroff.

This honesty truly lived up to Dumbledore's trust.

"So you're trying to tell me this way that Professor Snape is someone we can trust?"

“No, this is between Professor Snape and me,” Dumbledore shook his head. “I just wish you would care more about Harry.”

Sherlock was such a clever man, able to understand music instantly:
"You think Voldemort is getting stronger and will affect Harry—because of the pain from that scar during summer vacation?"

"I have a hypothesis, just a hypothesis..."

I think Harry's scars would ache whenever Voldemort got close to Harry, or whenever he felt a particularly strong urge for revenge.

Because this wasn't just any ordinary scar; the failed spell had linked Harry and Voldemort together.

Coincidentally, Sherlock thought the same thing.

"Alright, now you can tell me your thoughts after seeing my three memories."

"First of all, Karkarov is fine."

In the trial room, he was willing to betray even all his accomplices to protect himself; he was an extremely selfish and cowardly person.

He had neither the courage nor the motivation to side with Voldemort again—he knew all too well the consequences of betrayal.

"Secondly, Bagman is also fine."

Based on the trial process and my interactions with him, he was morally corrupt and addicted to gambling.

But he was definitely not a Death Eater, and he certainly wouldn't dare to have anything to do with Voldemort.

"And what about Barty Crouch Jr.?" Dumbledore pressed.

Upon hearing this name, Sherlock frowned, paused for a moment, and then spoke:
"My conclusion is that he did not personally participate in the torture of the Longbottoms."

Dumbledore looked at Sherlock with some surprise. "You seemed quite angry just now."

"Yes, I am very angry."

Sherlock said frankly, "This kind of evil is simply outrageous, but even so, anger should not cloud reason."

Based solely on your memory of Crouch Jr.'s performance, he was a Death Eater and was indeed present at the scene, but he did not participate in the torture inflicted on the Longbottoms by others.

The person in charge of this whole affair is undoubtedly that woman…

At this point, Sherlock paused, "She should be from the Black family, right?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore glanced at Sherlock, once again surprised by his keen perception.

"That's right, she is Bellatrix Lestrange."

Sirius's cousin was also one of Voldemort's most loyal followers.

“It really was her,” Sherlock nodded, then suddenly changed the subject: “How is Mr. Crouch?”

"He is recuperating at home, but in reality, he has retired early."

Dumbledore's voice also turned somber, "Since Barty Jr. was sentenced, he has aged rapidly and his mental state has been poor."

"So... how has he been lately?"

Upon hearing Sherlock's question, Dumbledore's heart skipped a beat. "Are you worried that Voldemort will harm him?"

"It's possible."

Sherlock said slowly, "Voldemort learned about Barty Crouch Jr. from Bertha Jorkins, so in order to obtain more information, he might very well target Crouch Sr.."

After all, old Crouch was a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic, and his mental state was fragile due to his son's situation, making him an easy target.

"I see."

Dumbledore said solemnly, "I will make arrangements immediately, remind the Ministry of Magic to strengthen protection, and I will also contact him personally."

Oh, right, there's one more thing..."

"Several missing persons cases have occurred this year."

Besides Bertha Jorkins, whom you just mentioned, who disappeared without a trace at Voldemort's final hideout, there's another disappearance case.

Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic considered it insignificant because the missing person was a Muggle.

"Muggle?"

"His name was Frank Bryce, and he lived in the village where Voldemort's father was born. He disappeared last August."

Dumbledore said, "You know, I've always been reading Muggle newspapers, unlike the rest of the department."

"This is a crucial clue!" Sherlock exclaimed immediately. "We must go!"

"Now?"

"ASAP."

Sherlock paced back and forth in his office, his steps hurried. "If too much time passes, the clues might disappear, but we have to try."

“I’ll make the arrangements. I’ll take you there before the Christmas holidays end.”

“You should have told me this sooner,” Sherlock said, frowning. “It’s crucial for us to find Voldemort.”

Faced with Sherlock's accusation, Dumbledore offered no explanation, simply stating, "I'm sorry, Sherlock, it was my oversight."

"Never mind, I can't blame you for this. After all, you have too many things to worry about."

Sherlock sighed. "The Ministry of Magic is a bunch of good-for-nothings. I really doubt they could find the truth even if you threw the evidence in their faces."

"But they are also an important force that we can rely on right now."

Both Sherlock and Dumbledore felt speechless when it came to the Ministry of Magic.

This conversation should end here.

Sherlock stood up, and Dumbledore stood up too.

"One more thing."

As Sherlock reached the door, Dumbledore called him back:

"Please don't tell anyone else about Neville's parents—he should tell everyone when he's ready."

Sherlock nodded. "Professor, I also want to ask you something."

"go ahead."

"Do you think things would be better if the Ministry of Magic had a different minister?"

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise, his eyes filled with astonishment, as if he were seeing the boy for the first time.

(End of this chapter)