Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 384 Undercover Mission
The once quiet Crouch mansion welcomed guests after a long absence.

It was still the same mansion, but when the original owner was in charge, it was quiet and deserted. But when a new owner took over, it immediately became brightly lit.

[Little Barty] and a group of people sat around a dining table that hadn't been used in a long time. The tempting aroma of steak and mushrooms filled the air, and the silver metal cutlery and cups clinked together with a crisp, pleasant sound.

According to the house-elf Sparky, his family had been eating at a small table for the past ten years or so. Mr. Crouch would always just eat a few bites, while young Barty was always under the influence of the Imperius Curse and was rarely in a conscious state.

"What should we do next?" [Little Barty] asked, wiping his mouth.

Having just been freed from the Imperishable Curse and the Confusion Curse, they spent some time catching up and reminiscing about their experiences over the past thirteen years.

In the immediate aftermath of Voldemort's disappearance, Bellatrix and Barty Jr. gathered a group of Death Eaters, attempting to extract information from the Order of the Phoenix members that the Longbottoms were victims of the Cruciatus Curse. Unfortunately, both of them were too mentally exhausted to reveal this.

Later, Dumbledore and Mad-Eye led the Aurors in pursuit, and Bellatrix and the others were arrested on the spot. Barty Jr. took advantage of the chaos to escape. He originally thought he could hide his identity and make his own plans slowly, but he was betrayed in court and imprisoned in Azkaban for two years until Mrs. Crouch suffered a blow and fell seriously ill. Before she died, she proposed an escape plan and was then confined to her home.

At that moment, Mr. Crouch was standing in the corner eating a cold, hard piece of black bread, while [Barty the Younger] remained expressionless, seemingly unconcerned.

Wormtail and Umbridge learned for the first time that there really were Death Eaters who were loyal to the Dark Arts, without any selfish motives or interests, and who were completely driven by personal worship.

"Don't worry, I have a well-thought-out plan."

Voldemort lay in the stroller, whispering. His body was unable to eat, so he could only mix milk powder with Nagini's venom: "They're preparing to restart the Triwizard Tournament... no, this time it's the Four-Way Championship. This is our chance."

[Barty] had a sudden realization: the information Voldemort revealed matched the intelligence Melvin provided—this was a good start.
What can I do for you?

Voldemort chuckled silently, hissing like a viper striking its tongue, and began to explain his long-term plan.

Wormtail and Umbridge ate their meal in silence, heads bowed. Wormtail listened to Voldemort's plan and slightly pursed his lips. In the two months they had spent together, they hadn't received any pleasantries. Voldemort only showed such a cheerful demeanor in front of Barty the Younger.

"Insect Tail, what are you doing with your head down? Why do you look so resentful?" someone asked in a sinister tone.

Wormtail immediately broke out in a cold sweat. The middle-aged wizard in front of him was pale-faced and stared straight at him. The long period of confinement in Azkaban and Crouch's house had twisted his personality, and he was now unleashing malice towards Wormtail.

Voldemort looked up, paused for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "Don't worry about the cowardly rat. Go, Wormtail, go to the kitchen and keep an eye on that house-elf."

Wormtail gave a low grunt, got up, cleared the plates, and carried them into the kitchen. Voldemort had found his loyal and reliable subordinate, and the rat that had crawled out of the gutter with him became insignificant, even only fit to stay with house-elves.

Very few people know that the timid and desperate rat actually has other masters.

"Keep listening to my plan. I want Umbridge to impersonate Miss Joggins and return to the Ministry of Magic to work, and while she's at it, find me a prophecy orb."

“Yes, the great Dark Lord!” Umbridge said smugly.

Voldemort laughed heartily: "And you, my dear Barty, I need to disguise myself as Mad-Eye to enter Hogwarts and wait for the opportunity to bring Harry Potter to me..."

They finally ended their meeting in the early hours of the morning. Voldemort stayed in what used to be Mr. Crouch's master bedroom, while Wormtail stayed in the next room to take care of him. Mr. Crouch and Gilgamesh stayed downstairs to provide support at any time. Umbridge chose a nice guest room, while Barty Jr. stayed on the top floor to keep watch.

[Little Barty] watched their figures separate on the stairs, and continued to walk up, his hard-soled leather shoes groaning on the old wooden steps, echoing through the old house.

During those few hours, the little white mouse hidden in the pocket was very restless, because the pocket made by Melvin with the Unseen Stretch Charm was not completely sealed. Inside, one could vaguely hear noises from outside, the sound of Voldemort mistakenly trusting Dumbledore, and the real Barty Crouch Jr.'s hysterical anxiety as he struggled and tore at the mouse cage, trying to send a warning.

Barty knew that this Death Eater was loyal and wanted to warn his master. He actually admired the bond between them, but the commotion caused by the white mouse was too small.

Umbridge muttered that no one knew the Ministry of Magic's workings better than herself, making her the most reliable candidate for an infiltration mission, while pulling Bertha Jorkins back to her room to interrogate her memories.

[Little Barty] continued upstairs, where he also needed to extract some exclusive memories to ensure the smooth progress of the undercover work.

Ascend the stairs to the top floor, push open the door to the innermost room in the corridor. It is spacious, fully equipped with a desk and bookshelves. There is also an attic on the roof. Looking out through the stained glass windows, the view is expansive, and you can see pythons slithering in the courtyard.

Whispering

[Close your ears and plug your ears]

Protect them all

[Little Barty] skillfully waved his hand to cast spells, like a well-trained agent. With the door closed, all movement was sealed inside the room. Even if Nagini peered through the window, he could only see the sleeping wizard on the bed.

Dumbledore took a rat cage out of his pocket, placed it on the desk, paused briefly, and then took out several bottles of potions.

This is the undercover equipment Melvin prepared for him; the potion was brewed by Snape.

The bottle with the slightly stronger smell was Polyjuice Potion. It could be used to disguise himself by taking a hair from Barty's head at any time and combining it with his own Transfiguration. It was a legendary wizard's method, so that even if Voldemort were to be resurrected, he would not be able to detect anything.

The colorless, odorless, clear, and transparent bottle contained Truth Potion, used to extract information from Little Barty. Combined with the Imperius Curse, Legilimency, and the cunning schemes of the centenarian wizard, Little Barty, whose mind was damaged, could not hide anything.

The mansion in the remote suburbs fell silent, the house sealed by a powerful and secretive magic. Dumbledore sat at his desk, the Elder Wand twirling between his fingers.

After more than a decade of taking action myself, having always been sitting in the background and ordering others around, it felt a bit strange to suddenly be on the front lines.

"The Dark Lord is invincible!" The wand touched him, and the white mouse darted out of its cage, revealing a human form with bloodshot eyes.

He didn't make a futile struggle. The man before him was a world-renowned legendary wizard who had defeated Grindelwald, the leader of the Sorcerer Party, before he was even born, and was the only person the Dark Lord feared during the Wizarding Wars.

Barty knew very well that even if Voldemort were standing here, he wouldn't be able to mount an effective counterattack in his weakened state and without his wand.

"In fact, the reason he looks the way he does now is because he was defeated thirteen years ago," Dumbledore said with remarkable composure.

Dumbledore was also surprised to see the snake-faced infant in swaddling clothes for the first time tonight. He heard that Nagini's venom, combined with unicorn silver blood, had been used to create a potion that housed this wraith. The old headmaster had to admit that Voldemort's mastery of the Dark Arts was unparalleled. His resurrection plan, from a purely magical standpoint, was entirely feasible.

"That also proves that the Dark Lord has defeated death. Death is always on our side. You can stop it once, but you can't stop it again. The Dark Lord will rise again sooner or later."

“Powerful wizards can live for two or three hundred years. If Voldemort keeps trying, he will not succeed for the next two hundred years.”

Dumbledore paused briefly, then said quietly, "Even if I were to die prematurely, there would still be Melvin... the young professor who captured you that night. He was Nicolas Flamel's student. If he could forge the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort wouldn't have a chance for a long time."

Little Barty suddenly fell silent, his despair as deep as the night.

Why do you pledge allegiance to Voldemort?

Dumbledore asked slowly, his deep blue eyes fixed on the pale-faced wizard: "You were born into a happy family. Mrs. Crouch loved you dearly and was even willing to take your place in Azkaban. Mr. Crouch was not one of those rigid wizards who believed in pure blood. You had no reason to choose him."

"What do you know?"

Little Barty scoffed: "That old guy has never cared about me. He only cares about his position. The Dark Lord and I trust each other. We have a lot in common. We both have extremely disappointing fathers. We both shamefully inherited our fathers' names. It's just that I haven't been able to kill my father and complete my transformation yet!"

Dumbledore was somewhat surprised that Voldemort had revealed Barty's real name and even secrets about his origins.

He blinked. "Did Voldemort ask you to keep anything safe?"

"what?"

Barty Jr. was taken aback, not understanding what Dumbledore meant.

Dumbledore plucked a strand of his hair, unscrewed the Polyjuice Potion, mixed it in, and slowly shook it: "During the First Wizarding War, Voldemort entrusted several important things to his trusted subordinates. Lucius Malfoy received the diary, Bellatrix Lestrange possessed a golden cup, Regulus Black knew the whereabouts of the locket, and what about you?"

Barty's face gradually flushed red, as if blood was rushing to his head; these news deeply stung his loyalty.

"Damn old man, what exactly do you want to ask? Do you think I'm going to tell you? I'm not like those wavering opportunists; they're traitors! Those things were tests given to them by the Dark Lord, and they failed them!"

After saying these words, Barty regretted it. Dumbledore was no kind old man. People had long said that he was an old wizard who would stop at nothing to gain power. Now that he was in the old man's hands, he might be tortured and interrogated in some way.

Dumbledore looked at his exasperated expression and nodded thoughtfully: "Voldemort gave you nothing."

Little Barty glanced at him, gritted his teeth, and had a vicious expression.

Dumbledore sighed, no longer bothering to ask Barty the Younger about Horcruxes, and began preparing Polyjuice Potion for tomorrow, his mood somewhat complicated.

The intelligence gathering was more complicated than he had anticipated, but thankfully Wormtail, Umbridge, and Mr. Crouch were all willing to help.

……

“My dress robe was almost an ugly secondhand item,” Ron muttered in complaint.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny sat facing each other in the compartment, while Hedwig and Juliet hung upside down on the luggage rack, their round eyes darting around. Crookshanks sat quietly in his wicker basket, yawning.

The weather wasn't good on the first day of school. Gusts of wind howled fiercely outside, rattling the train windows. A torrential downpour enveloped the express train, and raindrops were blown by the wind down the glass in thin strands, like swarms of gnats, as one of the little witches in Ravenclaw put it.

Harry thought that was quite apt; the raindrops really did look like transparent worms.

"Didn't they change it later? It's still from the Elegant Wizard Clothing Store. They even advertised during the World Cup. Their styles are pretty good, aren't they?"

Hermione and Ginny didn't participate in the conversation. Needless to say, Hermione's dress was perfect, and Ginny, on George and Fred's advice, also had a dress custom-made at a tailor shop on the streets of London.

Ginny thought of the dress, glanced at Harry secretly, and blushed slightly.

The dresses at the Muggle tailor shop were ridiculously expensive. The twin brothers' internship wages weren't enough, so they had to ask their mother for extra money. Their allowance would be halved for the next few months.

But if I could dance with Harry...

In the cubicle, only Hermione seemed unconcerned about the clothes. She ruffled Crookshank's hair and asked, "Mr. Weasley left in such a hurry at the station this morning. Did something happen?"

“It was Mad-Eye who caused this,” Ron waved his hand.

Seeing Hermione's puzzled look, Ginny chimed in, explaining, "Mad-Eye is the retired Auror Moody."

"I know that."

“He reported to the Aurors that he heard someone break into his yard, and when he quietly went out to check, he was ambushed by the dumpster,” Ron said, raising his hand.

"Isn't Mr. Weasley in charge of the office that prohibits the misuse of Muggle items? How come he's also in charge of Auror work?" After interning at the Prophet's Newspaper for a month and a half, Hermione had gained a thorough understanding of the wizarding world.

Ron shrugged. "Because Mad-Eye attacked the dumpster, blowing trash up everywhere, which attracted the Muggle police. The department sent word to Dad to deal with the dumpster that was spraying trash."

"..."

As Harry listened to his friends' noisy chatter, his anxious heart, which had been filled with unease because of the strange dream, gradually calmed down. He gathered his thoughts and reorganized the clues left in his memory.

Recalling those horrifying images, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Could it be that the python was pregnant, Voldemort possessed the snake's egg, and eventually gave birth to a snake-faced monster?
"I must tell the professor this when I get back to school," Harry decided.

(End of this chapter)