Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 382 The Best Undercover Agent

Hogwarts, Great Hall Side Room.

Headmaster Dumbledore was slowly and methodically cleaning the feathers off his Sorting Hat.

The Sorting Hat was turned upside down on the small round table, its pointed tip pointing downwards, its eyes and mouth silently closed, like a gray cat exposing its belly.

The hat was made of ordinary linen and looked plain and unremarkable under the light. It originally had no lining, but patches were placed on top of each other to form the lining.

The needlework patterns show no trace of alchemy or runes, yet they embody the thoughts of the four founders, have been passed down in the school for a thousand years, and remain the sole standard for the branch.

Dumbledore, wearing crescent-shaped silver-rimmed glasses, raised his chin and narrowed his eyes slightly as he carefully removed Fawkes's soft fur.

"Doing such eye-straining work in the dark?" someone said from behind.

Dumbledore pushed up his glasses and turned to look, seeing a young professor in a trench coat.

"Melvin, you actually came back before the start of the semester?" Dumbledore was quite surprised.

The Muggle Studies professor, who always left work to the last minute, smiled and sat down beside him: "I have something else to discuss with you, it has nothing to do with school affairs, it's about the savior you've been carefully cultivating."

"Harry?"

Dumbledore paused briefly, then pulled out a feather from Fawkes and placed it in the special tray: "I remember he was living with Sirius, has he run into some trouble again?"

The outer shell is made of blackened hardwood, and the inside is lined with soft silk. Static electricity keeps the light feathers bound in the box, preventing them from being carried away by air currents.

"As a student about to enter fourth grade, he saw me go to Knockturn Alley late at night and followed me without a second thought. The old witch in Knockturn Alley knocked him out with a handful of powder. I happened to have an appointment with a guest, so I locked him in the room. Normally, students should reflect on their mistakes when locked up, but the boy who survived the ordeal showed no remorse. He rummaged through the room and found a piece of my hidden memory," Melvin said with some distress.

"And coincidentally, there's a memory mirror in the room?"

Dumbledore continued cleaning up the feathers Fawkes had left in the Sorting Hat. Although the Sorting Hat itself was usually filthy and wasn't cleaned before the sorting process, some of the more serious things still needed to be dealt with beforehand, such as spider webs, rat or owl droppings, moldy candy, and the like.

"Yes, it's such a coincidence."

Dumbledore paused for a moment: "Whose memories, and what are they?"

“Karaktakus Burk, a memory of his before his retirement and seclusion, which I entrusted to Mr. Burkin to obtain.”

"The former owner of the Bojinboke store?"

The old headmaster was very concerned about Tom's job prospects after graduation and had thoroughly investigated his resume. Of course, he knew that this was Tom's former boss.

Dumbledore's expression changed slightly. He paused for a moment, took off his glasses, and stopped what he was doing: "What does Harry know?"

“Tom Riddle crafted several Horcruxes, and we’ve already found five.” Melvin looked into the headmaster’s deep blue eyes; the kind and gentle old wizard rarely appeared so serious.

"How many do you think are left?" Dumbledore asked.

"A person's soul cannot be torn indefinitely. Even Voldemort's soul has its limits. He wasn't an irrational fool. At first, he probably only wanted to divide his soul into... seven parts?"

“That’s what I initially thought…” Dumbledore repeated softly.

"However, things are always unpredictable. Even the most skilled fortune teller cannot predict the future. Our Mr. Rat has returned to his former master and brought me some useful information."

Melvin took the Sorting Hat, deftly plucked out a few feathers, and put them into the box: "Our good friend Tom has lived in the forest for several years, and seems to have grown tired of those lifeless things. He has made a boa constrictor friend and keeps it by his side all the time."

Dumbledore frowned silently, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"Knowledge of Horcruxes isn't Helbo's exclusive secret. Although Horcruxes can't communicate with each other, and we collect them very discreetly, Tom isn't a fool. He's currently hiding in Hangleton and may have already noticed the Horcruxes being stolen. Given his cautious nature, he would never bury his head in the sand."

"Do you think Voldemort turned the python into a living Horcrux?"

“This is just my guess, but Tom has decided to use Harry as material for resurrecting and reshaping his body. He should start doing this next school year. To completely kill him, all Horcruxes must be destroyed.” Melvin picked through the feathers.

Dumbledore thought about the scar on Harry's forehead and remained silent for a moment. Everything was proceeding according to plan, except that the number of Horcruxes was only a guess and there was no concrete evidence, which made him uneasy.

Horace should have some clues, but the previous conversations yielded no results. The old colleague was so apprehensive that he preferred to bury his head in the sand.

The Sorting Hat listened silently to the conversation between the old and young foxes, without uttering a sound.

"Voldemort is still just a ghost, and his two servants are cowards. He needs a loyal and reliable servant..."

Melvin reached into the Sorting Hat, pretended to fumble around for a bit, and pulled out a hamster cage. Inside the cage, filled with wood shavings, was a white mouse.

"Hey!" the Sorting Hat cried out in dissatisfaction.

Melvin patted him twice to reassure him, then pushed the cage in front of the old headmaster: "Barty Crouch Jr., Voldemort's former loyal follower."

"Mr. Crouch's son?"

Dumbledore was slightly surprised. Transfiguration wasn't like the Animagus; it wasn't as secretive. With Melvin's reminder, he also realized that the white mouse was actually a male wizard: "I remember he died in Azkaban ten years ago."

Over the next ten minutes, Melvin recounted to the old headmaster the Crouch family's ingenious escape plan, involving a substitution of one person for another, and the unfortunate witch, Bertha Jorkins, who was implicated.

"...I met him on the night of the Quidditch World Cup final. Harry lost his wand and he picked it up. He wanted to summon the Dark Mark to cause a bigger upheaval, but I caught him red-handed."

Dumbledore was momentarily dazed, looking down at the white mouse, and vaguely saw Crouch and his son looking like they did at school.

He also remembered that both father and son were outstanding among their peers, passing all the wizarding level exams, having a good reputation among their classmates, being favored by their professors, and having promising futures after graduation.

Barty Crouch was a key member of the Division of Executions, one of the first to take drastic measures against Death Eaters, and he signed the authorization document for the Unforgivable Curse… During the purge, Barty's identity as a Death Eater was exposed. At that moment, everyone stared in astonishment at Crouch, who sat in the presiding judge's seat. The middle-aged wizard merely calmed his breathing and then insisted on a severe sentence. The white mouse squeaked and screamed, its eyes bloodshot, its hysterical appearance resembling that of someone with mad rat disease.

"I had Crouch's elf tell Mr. Crouch that he'll come to the school to see you once he's thought it through. It's been several days already; he might be hesitating, or he might be avoiding it. But he's in the International Affairs Department, and he can't escape the Goblet of Fire..."

As the two were talking, there was a knock at the door. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and entered. She was equally surprised to see Melvin, nodded in greeting, and said to Dumbledore:
"Mr. Crouch has arrived and wishes to see you. He is waiting in the foyer."

……

In the principal's office, a figure sat in a chair, holding a teacup, head bowed, his face hidden in shadow.

“It was my fault…Dumbledore…I switched my son…I cast the Oblivion Curse on Bertha…”

Mr. Crouch spoke slowly, pausing occasionally, and without much emotion. He wasn't the kind of criminal who would weep and pray in a prison chair; he was more like a presiding judge announcing crimes from the dock.

The headmaster's office fell silent. Dumbledore and Melvin listened quietly, while the portraits of the headmaster on the wall huddled together, whispering to each other in a voice only they could hear.

The cage containing the white mouse was placed on the table. The mouse, which had just been hysterical, was now quiet, looking at the disheveled Crouch with a mocking gaze, as if laughing at his affected behavior.

Dumbledore sighed: “I have no intention of condemning you, Mr. Crouch… I know your character, and I understand the sacrifices people are willing to make for family, but you also know that we need to follow the rules.”

“Yes, I know.” Crouch raised his head, his hair and stubble disheveled, like the old wizards in the tavern, his eyes bulging as he stared intently at the white mouse.

“I couldn’t resist his mother’s pleas because I had the same thoughts in my heart, and that was my fault,” Crouch said in a low voice, a flicker of surprise in the mouse’s eyes that vanished in an instant.

Melvin handed over the letter from Albania, which recorded a recent tragedy: a conflict broke out between British witches and local dark wizards, and more than a dozen dark wizards chased them into the woods, where they were all brutally murdered...

Because Bertha Jorkins registered her identity when she stayed at a hotel, she is now listed as a missing witch, and relevant clues are being sought.

“When you were in the Division of Execution, you would go through more than a dozen files every day, not letting any dark wizards escape. Many people were in awe of you,” Dumbledore said politely.

"Now it's my turn to be the criminal, and I'm sitting in the dock waiting for trial."

The silence lasted for a moment. Crouch didn't ask any foolish questions or try to bribe Dumbledore to help him cover something up; he had already prepared for that before coming to Hogwarts.

He looked at the young professor and asked softly, "Is there a special reason why you summoned me to Hogwarts instead of reporting me directly to the Ministry of Magic?"

"I need your help. Voldemort has returned to Britain to prepare for his resurrection and has received news of Barty Jr. We have prepared a plan to kill him again."

Mr. Crouch's pupils contracted, as if he were processing this shocking news.

The white mice on the table immediately became agitated, frantically tearing at the copper and iron cage.

"Dark Lord... Voldemort is really not dead!?"

Mr. Crouch's eyes bulged as he sat stiffly in his chair, his face ashen. The initial shock in his eyes quickly turned into a cold glint: "If he really does return to Britain, why not notify the Ministry of Magic? Why not stop his resurrection immediately? Letting him return could cost many lives."

“We notified them three years ago, but hardly anyone believed us.”

Dumbledore sighed softly: "A spirit without a physical body can only be truly killed by having a new body."

Mr. Crouch fell silent, recalling the film that first made the Shadowshine famous.

Melvin continued explaining his plan: "Voldemort has received news of Barty Jr. He needs a loyal and reliable servant and will likely be visiting your home soon. My plan is to have Dumbledore drink Polyjuice Potion, disguise himself as Barty Jr., and infiltrate Voldemort's inner circle to ensure that nothing goes wrong."

Dumbledore suddenly opened his eyes wide, turned and stared at Melvin with a very subtle expression.

Before Mr. Crouch could agree, the old headmaster coughed twice to clear his throat: "Mr. Crouch, I think you would like to speak with your son. Please wait here for a moment. I think Professor Levent and I also need to speak."

As Dumbledore stood up, he tapped his wand lightly on the cage and the white mouse, and a middle-aged wizard appeared with a "bang".

He was a pale-skinned sorcerer with freckles on his face and a head of messy, light-yellow hair. He looked older than his actual age of over thirty, with wrinkles creeping around his eyes. He was thin and appeared weak and tired, but his eyes revealed hatred and anger.

"I hope you and your son have a pleasant conversation."

Dumbledore and Melvin got up and went back to the inner study, the room where the Pensieve was stored.

"You didn't tell me that the plan included having me go undercover!" Dumbledore pressed impatiently as soon as the door closed, his eagerness rarely seen in the usually composed headmaster.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say in the side hall of the auditorium,” Melvin said seriously. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you.”

"?"

“The members of the Order of the Phoenix have their own jobs, and it is not convenient for news to spread. Other professors at Hogwarts are busy teaching and cannot leave, but you do not have to teach.”

"And what about the headmaster's job?" Dumbledore asked, somewhat annoyed.

“What important matters could the principal possibly have? Professor McGonagall is handling things with the Board of Trustees, and the four deans are also in charge of school affairs. The focus next year is the Fire Cup Tournament. The principal just needs to sit on the referee’s bench and act as a mascot. We can call Aberforth back to temporarily take over as principal.”

“Aberforth…”

Dumbledore was speechless, staring straight at Melvin, unable to think of a reason to refute him.

“Headmaster, you know Tom Riddle best. You are an expert in Legilimency and Occlumency. Staying by Voldemort's side can help you investigate the remaining Horcrux clues, observe the state of that python, and find out the details of the resurrection plan.”

Melvin felt the reasoning was more and more valid: "Besides, you have the strongest dueling skills, making it the safest place to infiltrate the enemy's ranks. Even if you are discovered, Voldemort in his ghost form can't do anything to you."

Melvin was amazed at his own wisdom. He wasn't a fool like James or Sirius. Why not use a legendary wizard when there was one available?

(End of this chapter)