A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 632 All talk of justice, all heart is business.

William appeared in a special room.

The room was dimly lit, with no windows and only torches mounted on wall supports.

Rows of wizards sat on tiered benches around the perimeter, while an empty chair stood in the center of the room, its armrests wrapped with chains.

Two Professors Dumbledore sat side by side next to him.

One of Dumbledores didn't move or speak, but stared at the corner of the room in the distance, where there was a door.

Another person noticed William, turned his head slightly, and quickly caught sight of Harry, who had suddenly appeared.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and looked at William with a questioning gaze.

"Harry's scar suddenly hurts." William also looked towards the door.

This is clearly a trial conducted by the Ministry of Magic, and the memories come from Dumbledore himself.

Speaking of this, we must mention Professor Deng's three new hobbies:

Discipline the boy who miraculously survived, watch porn, and search for a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

William accompanied the principal to watch short films many times.

Like William, who collected hair, Dumbledore collected many memories. When he had nothing to do, he would listen to these "CDs" of the past.

This memory is at least ten years old. Because Crouch, standing to one side, is actually on trial.

Crouch was marginalized long ago, especially after Fudge came to power. Since he was able to conduct the trial, it was naturally based on memories from a long time ago.

Upon hearing William's words, Dumbledore's sharp eyes turned to Harry, staring at the scars.

"Where am I?" Harry was startled to see two Dumbledores.

He looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression, then at the silent crowd waiting, and then at William.

"This is my memory, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly.

Crouch suddenly spoke, his face grim, a vein throbbing at his temple.

"Bring him in." His voice echoed in the silent dungeon.

The door in the corner of the room opened, and six Dementors led four people in.

Many people turned to look at Mr. Crouch, and a few whispered among themselves.

The Dementors placed the four wizards into four chained chairs in the center of the dungeon.

One of the short, stout men stared blankly at Crouch; the other, thinner man, seemed more nervous, his eyes darting towards the audience.

A woman with thick, glossy black hair and long eyelashes, looking as if she were sitting on a throne.

There was also a seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy who looked completely terrified and was trembling all over.

Crouch stood up, looking down at the four men with extreme hatred on his face.

"You are brought before the Magic Law Committee to await sentencing," he said clearly, "your crimes are so heinous!"

"Father," said the straw-haired boy, "Father...please..."

William was stunned for a moment; he knew what kind of trial this was.

During the summer vacation, Crouch contacted him and Hermione because of the Albanian situation.

At that time, William had investigated Crouch himself.

Crouch's past wasn't exactly a secret; older wizards knew about it, so it was easy to investigate.

His life can be roughly divided into two phases.

His first half of life was naturally smooth sailing; he was a winner in life.

Born into a pure-blood family, she excelled academically in school... she was a class monitor and student council president.

After graduating and joining the Ministry of Magic, he rose through the ranks, eventually competing for the position of Minister of Magic, and at one point even surpassed his rival Fudge in popularity.

But one event changed the rest of his life and divided his life into two phases.

After Voldemort's downfall, his son Barty Crouch Jr. was accused of being a Death Eater.

Barty Jr. is best known for kidnapping the Longbottoms with the Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix, and then using the Cruciatus Curse on them.

It was after this incident that Crouch's reputation was completely ruined, and he lost out to Fudge.

This was the very moment of that trial.

"Father, I didn't!" young Barty screamed. "I didn't, I swear—Father! I'm not a Death Eater!"

"Mother!" he cried again, "Mother, stop him! Mother, I didn't do those things, it wasn't me!"

Little Barty's mother began to sob, her body swaying back and forth.

Crouch ignored him and coldly announced that the four men would be sentenced to life imprisonment.

The Dementors slowly walked in and led them away.

"I am your son!" Barty Jr. shouted at Crouch, "Your son!"

"You're not my son!" Crouch roared, his eyes suddenly bulging outwards. "I have no son!"

Memories are changing; it's still the same dungeon, but the trial is over.

The crowd slowly left the dungeon, but no one left immediately; instead, they secretly looked behind them.

Crouch's wife—the frail witch—was pounding her husband's chest and biting his arm in a frenzy.

"You're murdering my son! You're ruining him!"

"He's not our son, he's nothing."

Crouch hugged his wife tightly and cried out, "He was just a Death Eater. Sending him to Azkaban was a good thing!"

"No," the witch cried, her voice breaking. "That's our son."

He is still a child!

What kind of person would send their son to Azkaban when they could easily get him out of prison?

"Barty, I beg you, let him out! I beg you!"

"You know nothing!" Crouch shouted, his voice filled with anguish.

Soon, the crowd disappeared, another memory appeared, and the scene slowly changed.

The dungeon transformed into a long, black metal corridor, with a pure white cell at the very end.

At the end of the corridor, there were two Dementors guarding that cell.

In the distance stood three wizards: Crouch and his wife, and a bald, middle-aged wizard.

Although Crouch was still exceptionally clean-cut, his temples were now streaked with gray compared to the last trial.

His wife aged even more rapidly, becoming so thin she was just skin and bones, and seemed to be dying.

The voice was clear and distinct—very harsh, like an argument; it was the voice of a middle-aged wizard.

"Yes, yes, you've come all this way," he said, "but without the Minister of Magic's signature, visits are prohibited."

The ministry stipulates that there are no exceptions.

After the fall of the Ministry of Magic, Azkaban imprisoned a large number of wizards.

The number of Dementors is severely insufficient.

The Ministry of Magic was also worried about a Death Eater breakout, so it sent a group of wizards to work with the Dementors to keep watch over the prison.

The middle-aged wizard was the warden of Azkaban.

Crouch asked coldly, "Is he being treated well?"

"That's good enough, a single cell. Two meals a day," the warden said. "This isn't the Leaky Cauldron."

"Is my son safe?"

"Safe? He's a Death Eater." The warden said dismissively, "To be honest, those Dementors love people like him."

Young, with fond memories, very fresh... Your son howls almost every night.

In this respect, he's far inferior to Sirius Black.

The witch gripped Crouch's arm tightly, her face growing even paler.

The warden lowered his voice and said, "To be honest, your son might not last much longer."

"I demand that he be treated by a healer from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Arts." Crouch stared at the middle-aged wizard.

"Don't be ridiculous, he's just a Death Eater," the warden scoffed.

"However, it might still be approved. We have a separate system, and nobody will know."

Although official document approvals can take one or two weeks... or even a month... it takes time to review...

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh," the warden quickly said, "the conditions here are terrible."

He paused for a moment. "Sometimes, when relevant parties, such as yourself, make donations to Azkaban staff, it can speed up our processes."

Crouch remained silent.

"Mr. Crouch," the warden lowered his voice and continued, "For a family like yours, Gallon is not a problem; there's always a way."

I know people in the ministry. Although you have been transferred from the Legal Enforcement Department and are no longer the director, you still have connections.

"If you and I work together, let alone a therapist, maybe we can even get your son out of here..."

Crouch stared wide-eyed.

"Seriously, look at those officials in the Ministry of Magic now. They talk about justice, but all they care about is business."

Of course, I'm not talking about you.

The warden said with a fawning expression, "Let's not talk about anything else, just Malfoy."

Who doesn't know he's a Death Eater? But how many Galleons did he send, and how many connections did he make?

They're not 'on our side' yet, they're just 'controlled by the Soul-Stealing Curse'...that's all!"

Crouch's face grew increasingly grim.

The warden continued, "If all the fees are paid, and your son says he's being held against his will..."

Crouch responded coldly, "Your suggestion is illegal, and I can't let him out, especially not in this kind of situation."

And what you just said…”

"Once you step out that door, I won't acknowledge you," the warden sneered. "You expect those two Dementors to testify for you?"

"Don't you feel guilty earning these Galleons?" Crouch stared at the middle-aged wizard.

The warden pulled out two Galleons and scoffed, "Which of these two Galleons is noble, and which is despicable?"

"And you'd rather leave him here? Let me tell you, your son won't last more than two months."

"I want to talk to him, right now!"

"As I said, we have regulations. Your son cannot see you without the minister's signature... unless you are willing to discuss certain issues."

A cold silence followed for a moment, then Crouch said in a gentler tone, "Let us see him first, and then we'll talk about what happens next."

I don't want to be disturbed by anyone.

After a moment's hesitation, the warden let Crouch and his wife in.

The door slammed shut.

The warden stood far from the door, because there were two Dementors guarding it.

He felt very uncomfortable standing next to him.

With Dementors guarding the prison, Crouch couldn't possibly break out of the prison.

After half an hour,

Crouch and his wife came out. Crouch grew increasingly cold, pulling his wife along.

His wife seemed frightened by her son and moved quickly, as if trying to escape the prison.

The warden left with the two men.

Just as they were about to leave the corridor, two Dementors entered the room, took Barty out, and prepared to send him back to his cell.

"We should go back now." Dumbledore stood up.

William stood up and reached out to support Harry's elbow.

The three slowly rose into the air, Azkaban dissipated, and in the blink of an eye, only darkness remained.

……

……

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(End of this chapter)