Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 620 Comeback

Chapter 620 Comeback
Open contempt from an enemy is far more hurtful than any accusation from a friend.

In the mind of Barty Crouch Jr., a Death Eater, the officials of the Ministry of Magic were not as threatening as an underage wizard.

This incident made Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge so angry that he trembled with rage and found it unacceptable.

Outrageous!

This is simply unreasonable!

This is a great humiliation for him!
Ludobagman, who was standing nearby, noticed that Fudge's condition was not right and quickly tugged at his sleeve.

Fudge turned his head and saw Bagman gently shaking his head at him.

He naturally understood what Bagman meant; it was a signal for him not to lose his composure.

Fudge took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently, forcibly suppressing the raging anger within him.

"The reason I kept Moody around was not only to understand his lifestyle, but also to prepare compound decoctions with his hair at any time."

Without being interrupted, Barty Crouch Jr. continued his testimony in a calm tone:
"The other materials are easy to obtain, but African tree snake skin is more troublesome, which is why I repeatedly sneaked into the Potions teacher's office to steal it."

Snape curled his lips slightly.

"When Snape found me in his office, I only said that I was there to search for dark magical artifacts."

This is the Auror's right, and even if he has doubts, he dares not openly obstruct it.

I took advantage of Snape's character flaws; he was always preoccupied with his past and afraid of it being brought up, so he didn't dare to ask too many questions..."

Harry looked surprised upon hearing this.

Did Snape have this side to him?
He instinctively looked towards Snape and saw that his face was just as dark as Fudge's.

Snape was indeed very angry at that moment.

For a fleeting moment, his hand had already touched the wand handle.

He wished he could pull out his wand right then and there and deliver a vicious curse to Barty Crouch Jr.

"Severus."

Just then, Professor McGonagall noticed his unusual behavior, called his name softly, and then shook her head slightly at him.

Snape took a deep breath, slowly loosening his grip on his wand, forcibly suppressing the evil fire in his heart.

"I originally planned to secretly help Hogwarts win the Triwizard Tournament to ensure that Harry could make it to the end."

Barty Crouch Jr. continued:
"But Holmes was even better than I had imagined. They didn't need my help at all and took the lead all the way."

This is exactly the result I wanted to see—it achieved the master's expected goal while avoiding too much contact with Holmes and reducing the risk of exposure.

Everything went very smoothly, right up until tonight.

When Barty Crouch Jr. got to this point, everyone involuntarily focused their attention.

This is the key to the whole plan.

"Before dinner tonight, I volunteered to put the Sanqiang Cup into the maze."

Prior to this, I had rarely exercised the duties of a referee.

So when I brought this up, naturally no one stopped me.

Why did you put the trophy in the maze? What did you do to it?

Fudge could no longer contain himself and eagerly pressed for an answer.

“I turned it into a door key, and the coordinates were set by the owner long ago—I don’t know exactly where it is.”

Barty Crouch Jr. laughed, a fervent smile, as if recalling the happiest time of his life:
"At that moment, I knew that my master's plan was about to succeed!"
Once I deliver Harry Potter to him, I will receive a reward that no wizard could even dream of.

After saying this, his smile deepened, but it also revealed a twisted madness.

But then, he changed the subject, his tone revealing a hint of surprise:
"But I never expected that the three of them would be able to walk out of the maze unharmed."

Just then, Dumbledore informed me that he had found clues about Voldemort.

"The master's orders are paramount; upon hearing the news, I rushed over immediately."

"It's very clear now."

Dumbledore stopped asking Barty Crouch Jr. questions, turned to Fudge, and slowly said:

"Do you have any other questions, Cornell? Cornell?"

After listening to Barty Crouch Jr.'s full account, Fudge fell into a daze, his eyes vacant and his face pale.

Dumbledore called him several times, but he didn't respond until Bagman next to him tugged hard at his sleeve, which snapped him back to reality.

“Ah, Albus, I heard you—I was just thinking about it!” Fudge said quickly.

Dumbledore: "..."

Is that thinking?

However, what Fudge said next surprised him even more than that.

"I think this is only his side of the story!"

Fudge suddenly raised his voice and said emphatically:
"Albus, I don't think you would listen to the nonsense of a madman, would you?"
He was imprisoned in Azkaban for so long and was under the influence of the Imperius Curse; his mind was already in chaos!
What mysterious person, what ally, what door key...?

He believed that everything he did was in accordance with the mysterious man's will, but in reality, it was all his delusion!

"You fool!"

Professor McGonagall, who had just been trying to calm Snape down, couldn't hold back any longer. Her chest heaved as she glared at Fudge and said:

"Hasn't Bertha Joggins' disappearance made you realize the seriousness of the situation?"

Doesn't the change in the Black Magic Mark explain the problem?
"Aren't Batty Crouch's pretense and Moody's ordeal enough to wake you up?"

"so what?"

Fudge's voice was no quieter than Professor McGonagall's, and even carried a hint of hysteria:
There is no direct evidence to prove that Bertha Jorkins is dead!

As for the Dark Mark—who can really say for sure what happens between the Death Eaters!

In my view, you are all determined to create a sense of panic and undermine the peace and stability we have painstakingly built over the past thirteen years!

Harry was stunned by what he saw.

He couldn't believe his ears.

The facts are already so obvious, yet Fudge still refuses to believe it, refuses to acknowledge that his orderly, stable, and comfortable world may be destroyed.

Ultimately, he was just cowardly escaping reality, unwilling to believe that Voldemort might make a comeback.

Just when Harry thought the Ministry of Magic and the Minister had done something bad enough, they always managed to push the boundaries even further.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but look at Sherlock.

In his view, only Sherlock could come up with a way to break the deadlock in this situation.

Sherlock certainly did not disappoint him.

"There's no need to say so much to him, Professor McGonagall."

Trying to reason with an ostrich that has its head buried in the sand is like kicking it into the desert and letting it experience the heat firsthand.

Sherlock spoke slowly and quietly:
"Didn't Your Excellency not believe Voldemort was back? Then why don't we let them meet?" "What...what do you mean!"

If I was surprised to see Moody transform into a mini-Batty Crouch, then...
Hearing his confession with my own ears was shocking.
Upon hearing Sherlock's words, a sense of fear began to fester in Fudge's heart.

"That's what it means."

Sherlock chuckled:
"Your Excellency, as Barty Crouch Jr. just said, he has turned the Triwizard Tournament into a door key."

Don't you find that strange?

Why weren't the three of us teleported to the destination set by the portal key after we received the trophy?

"That's exactly what I was going to say!"

Upon hearing Sherlock mention this, Fudge, as if grasping at a straw, angrily retorted:

"If what he said is true, how could you have gotten out of the maze unharmed!"
This shows that he was talking complete nonsense and that no one ever gave him any tasks.

His idea of turning the trophy into a key was just his own fantasy—and you all actually believed the words of a madman!

"Compared to this madman, your stupidity is far superior."

Even the Death Eaters could see that the Ministry of Magic officials were as stupid as a bunch of goldfish.

Sherlock interrupted him without any politeness:

"To be honest, if you were our enemy, I believe everyone would be very happy."

Having an opponent like you is incredibly fortunate.

"Holmes, how dare you..."

Sherlock's words made Fudge tremble with anger, his body covered in cold sweat and his hands and feet were ice cold despite the hot weather.

He pointed at Sherlock, about to say something, but Sherlock ruthlessly interrupted him once again:

"Unfortunately, you fool have quite the luck, managing to sit in the position of Minister of Magic."

Sherlock's tone was full of disdain:
"You can do nothing but tremble and deny it."

Instead of wasting time talking to a brick wall, let me show you what reality is like.

He then ignored Fudge and turned to look at Dumbledore:
"Sir, I think we can begin."

Dumbledore gave Fudge a deep look, who was so angry with Sherlock that he couldn't speak, and shook his head helplessly.

Then, he opened the cabinet behind his desk, took something out, and gently placed it on the desk.

When Fudge and Bagman saw this, their eyes widened and their mouths gaped open enough to fit an egg.

Because what Dumbledore brought out was another Triwizard Tournament trophy!
At this moment, this trophy and the one that Sherlock brought back from the maze are placed side by side on the table. From appearance and luster to details and textures, they are exactly the same, making it difficult to tell the difference.

Seeing that Fudge could no longer speak, Bagman had to speak for him, his voice trembling slightly:
"Albus, this... this could be..."

Sherlock saw through Crouch Jr.'s disguise a few days ago.

Dumbledore explained succinctly:

"So when Crouch Jr. offered to put the trophy in the maze tonight, we guessed he might tamper with it."

So I asked Minerva to use her shapeshifting magic to create an identical trophy and give it to him. After Crouch placed the trophy, which he had turned into a key, into the maze, Minerva secretly switched it back.

"Now you understand why we were able to leave the maze unharmed, right?"

Sherlock sneered and looked coldly at Fudge:
"Now, by using this door key, we can go directly to the location set up by Crouch Jr. and have a friendly and cordial meeting with Voldemort."

Dear Minister, don't you think Crouch Jr. is talking nonsense?
"Then come with us and see for yourselves if it's all true."

"This...this is absurd!"

Fudge jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, pointed at the two triple-cup glasses on the table, and shouted in a shrill voice:
This is kidnapping! This is coercion! This is a crime!
"Dumbledore, are you just going to let this student run wild?"

"Connelly".

Dumbledore's voice remained steady, but a sharp glint flashed in his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles, along with a deeply hidden sense of pleasure:

"The truth is right in front of us; all we need to do is reach out and touch it."

Running away only reveals your weakness. As the leader of the magical world, you need to face reality.

Sherlock wasn't joking; he provided the most direct method of proof.

Ludobagman, who was originally overjoyed to have won the Triwizard Tournament, was now deathly pale.

His lips trembled, completely devoid of his usual slick tone:

"Albus...Sherlock...this...this is too dangerous! What if...what if..."

"What if Crouch Jr. is telling the truth?"

Sherlock replied coldly, glancing at Fudge with a mocking look:
"Isn't that exactly what you wanted, Minister?"
Go and verify for yourself whether what the madman you're talking about is true.

Or is it that deep down you already believe it, but you're just afraid to admit that your long-standing sense of security has been nothing but self-deception?

"I……"

Upon hearing this, Fudge was speechless, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

He subconsciously glanced at the gleaming gold trophy on the table.

One moment it symbolized honor, but now it looked to him like a hideous black mark, radiating deadly terror.

He looked around, instinctively intending to seek help.

The result, however, left him in despair.

Dumbledore's gaze remained calm.

Professor McGonagall glared at him.

Snape wore a mocking sneer, looking at him as if he were a hopeless fool.

Lupin, Sprout, and Flitwick all stared at him coldly, without saying a word.

Even Harry pursed his lips tightly, his eyes filled with anger and disdain.

As for Sherlock, needless to say, he had an expression that said, "I knew it all along."