A certain Hogwarts professor of runes.

When only half of the golden egg remained, Harry's impulse intensified. He hesitated, unsure whether to remind Hermione that the ailing Professor Moody lived nearby, and if he heard them, he might storm over and cast a curse on them all, such as forcing them to press their ears to the golden egg...

"It's done!" Hermione exclaimed happily.

Harry and Ron leaned over to look, and in her hand there was only a palm-sized fragment of the golden egg left, but it was now quiet and no different from the other fragments.

“Are you sure you’ve succeeded, Hermione? If you fail, we won’t laugh at you,” Ron said magnanimously.

He remembered that Collins Foley had reminded him at the Christmas dinner, although he didn't know why and hadn't heard a word, but he figured that since she had told him once, she certainly wouldn't mind telling him a second time.

Hermione hummed twice, her eyes narrowed into crescent moons, and she gently tapped her wand on them.

"Click".

With a faint cracking sound, the last fragment in her hand broke in two, followed by a low, piercing scream.

"Is there any difference besides being quieter?" Harry asked, the only consolation being that he no longer had to cast the Silent Charm.

“Oh, it’s missing a necessary environment,” Hermione laughed brightly. “I’ve retained its core functions—storing and converting sounds—as long as I put it in—”

"In the water!" Ron suddenly slapped his forehead and said.

Hermione glared at him.

Chapter 420 The Secret of the Golden Egg

"How did you know?" Harry asked Hermione on her behalf.

“Uh—well,” Ron said, shrinking back as if stung by a Billy Wiggins bug, “Collins mentioned it to me at the dinner party—”

"It seems so?" Hermione and Harry exclaimed in unison.

“I—I didn’t hear you clearly, it was too noisy,” Ron said, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to ease the serious atmosphere. “When Hermione said to put the fragment in something, it suddenly occurred to me.”

Hermione looked furious, and Harry couldn't help but look at Ron with pity. Fortunately, at that moment, the door to the ward was pushed open from the outside.

Neville walked in. “Hi, Harry, Ron, how are you? Oh, Hermione's here too… I heard some rumors from the prefects, really weird stuff… but since you weren’t back last night, I knew it had something to do with you, and I figured you’d definitely need this…”

He held up the two bulging sets of clothes in his hands, walked closer, and then his eyes widened as he stared at the golden egg that had shattered on the bed, speechless.

“Thank you, you’ve come at just the right time. We really need a change of clothes,” Harry said thankfully, stepping forward to take the clothes. “Uh—sit anywhere, Neville, but don’t step on the egg pieces. We’re not sure if we need to put them back together.”

Hermione puffed out her cheeks, snatched the only useful fragment, and said, "See you at the library." She quickly slipped out of the ward.

At this moment, Harry and Ron took off their pajamas and began to get dressed. Neville sat nervously on Ron's bed, his eyes fixed on the fragments, which looked like they had been handled very roughly. "So, it's true?"

“Oh, what?” Harry asked, pulling a sweater over his head.

“I heard from Lee Jordan that Professor Moody was actually a dark wizard in disguise, and his goal was to steal your golden egg. Last night you and Ron chased him away…”

Harry and Ron stopped and looked at each other. Harry, with one sleeve still dangling, muttered, "Everything except the first one is nonsense."

Ron, having finished dressing, patted Neville on the shoulder and said, "Buddy, the real Professor Moody is in the intensive care unit not far from here. Maybe you could ask him; he might know!" Seeing Neville's interested expression, he immediately stammered, "I'm just kidding, please don't go ask..."

Neville shook his head. “I won’t ask. But I want to visit him. He was very kind to me, remember? He gave me that book, ‘The Amazing Aquatic Plants of the Mediterranean and Their Characteristics.’”

“What if it was sent by that Death Eater?” Ron guessed. “Listen to me, Neville. Moody has been tricked this time. He was set up by the Mystic. He and that Death Eater took turns teaching us, so the professors didn’t notice. Now nobody knows which class was really taught by Moody—” As he spoke, he suddenly clapped his hands heavily and roared, “Damn it! I knew no professor would dare cast the Unforgivable Curse on us!”

Neville looked stunned, completely unexpected that this matter would involve the Mystic and the Death Eaters.

After venting his frustrations, Ron calmed down and said expectantly, "Hopefully Professor Moody will be nicer to us in the new semester, but who knows... he might not be able to come back."

The speaker meant no harm, but Harry's heart suddenly started pounding. If Professor Moody couldn't teach them next semester, the school would have to find them a new teacher, even if it was temporary, like Professor Belby in the second year.

But then he thought of the curse that Ron had mentioned to him. But Professor Belby was perfectly fine... He tried to convince himself, but what if? He couldn't imagine the consequences if something happened to Sirius. Although he hadn't known he had a godfather for the first thirteen years of his life, he found himself unable to live without him.

Harry was undecided, unsure whether to tell Sirius. There was something he really wanted to say: his godfather was too dull. Aside from practicing magic and playing chess with the old men in the Muggle community, all his attention was on him. Sirius should have his own life, like finding a job or starting a family…

“Harry, Harry!” Ron shouted in his ear.

“Oh—what?” Harry looked up, and Ron and Neville were both looking at him.

Ron shrugged. "Help me talk to Neville. He still wants to visit that powder keg... What's wrong with you?"

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly. “I mean—of course, I agree.”

"You agree?" Ron's eyes widened.

“Yes, we should visit Professor Moody; he doesn’t seem to have any relatives,” Harry said casually. He decided to postpone the visit until Sirius asked, at which point he would make a decision.

……

At the entrance to the castle chapel, Draco Malfoy leaned listlessly against the oak door, clutching a green gift-wrapping ribbon in his hand. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy surrounded him.

Didn't you submit an application to stay on campus?

Draco wrinkled his nose. "I don't know either. It was a sudden request from Dad. He told Professor Snape beforehand." He glanced back at the Great Hall every now and then. His father had come to pick him up this morning and had bumped into Professor Hyp on the way, after which he was sent aside.

He swung the ribbon in his hand—it was pulled from the gift box—and always felt that his father's expression was complicated when he came over, with a hint of disappointment. But he hadn't done anything recently, so he must have been mistaken.

“...Yes, the traces from that night were particularly strong...then faded, much like they were more than a decade ago.” Lucius Malfoy said in a low voice, taking the opportunity of exchanging canes to subtly scan his surroundings with his gray eyes.

“I understand,” Felix said.

Lucius nodded slightly, took two steps back, and raised his voice: "You should mind your own business." He turned and left with a cold smile on his face. When he reached Draco's side, his son looked at him with concern.

"Dad, what's wrong? What's wrong with you—"

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from things you shouldn't touch?" Lucius was furious when he saw his son, but some things couldn't be said outright, especially those involving the Dark Lord's diary and the agreement with Hyp. So he could only find fault with other things.

"There are three warriors your age, why aren't you among them?"

Draco felt wronged. "Dad, they cheated using some unknown method!"

Lucius glanced at him, switched his cane to his right, and pulled Draco away with his left hand.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy watched their retreating figures. Pansy hesitated and said, "Uncle Malfoy looks really angry. Draco hasn't gotten into any trouble lately, has he?"

She looked at Crabbe and Goyle with suspicion. "Did you two cause this trouble?"

The two quickly shook their heads.

Just then, Felix approached with a newspaper. The three men called out "Professor!" and hurried away. Felix walked out of the castle and stood on the marble steps. In the distance, he could still see the Malfoys and their son, Lucius, talking to Draco, who looked quite resentful.

Facing the winter sun, Felix flicked the newspaper in his hand; the active Black Mage symbol on the front page was very conspicuous. The headline was written in blood-red lettering—

Are the Death Eaters still at large, or has the mysterious figure returned?

It is reported that Barty Crouch, who served as the Director of the International Magical Exchange and Cooperation Department and was in charge of two major international events (Quidditch World Cup and Quidditch Championship), was attacked at his home last night by unknown assailants. The scene was chaotic, Crouch was missing, and his old house was reduced to ruins.

Most terrifying of all was the Dark Mark suspended high in the air. All the Ministry of Magic staff who arrived at the scene were speechless. One burly, muscular female official collapsed to the ground in terror. When reporters approached this hysterical official for an interview, they obtained no useful information and were instead subjected to unwarranted insults. The reporters later learned that this female official had been demoted for poor performance and for attempting to exorcise Dementors to cover up a scandal within the Ministry of Magic. This matter involved the brother of a dark hero who had silently resisted the mysterious figures during the war. For more details, please refer to Chapter 7 of Rita Skeeter's new book, *Going Against the Dark Terror*…

Anyone who experienced that horrific war will never forget what the Dark Mark represents. But fourteen years after the death of the Voidman and the end of the war, as we celebrate our first Quidditch World Cup victory in nearly thirty years and successfully unearth the tournament from history and give it new meaning, bringing joy to the people, we are forced to rethink: Have we truly escaped the shadow of war? Or is this just the prelude to another war?

Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic has performed poorly in this unexpected event. If some of us still yearn for the rule of some villain whose name we cannot even mention, while our Ministry remains oblivious, instead lavishing its energy on trivial potions collaborations and basking in its own self-satisfaction—I can almost predict that the Ministry will be greatly disappointed.

As of press time, the latest information this newspaper has received is that Mr. Barty Crouch is not in any danger and is receiving treatment in secret. The young official representing the Ministry of Magic declined to reveal any further details, only repeatedly stating that he was busy with work and had to take over a large backlog of tasks for Mr. Crouch.

For a detailed biography of Barty Crouch, please see page four of this newspaper. Finally, if you would like to learn more about a man whose name cannot be mentioned and his sinister gang, please stay tuned for Rita Skeeter's new book, *Going Against the Dark Terror*, which will be available for signing at Flourish and Blotts on January 1st. Owl mailing is also available; details…

“That’s all. The rest is just rubbish,” Hermione said, looking up from her newspaper.

Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances, stunned for a moment. Then, Ron suddenly burst into laughter, panting. "She...she didn't know that person was still alive, did she? Otherwise, she would never have had the audacity to gossip about Mysterio..."

Harry and Hermione laughed too; they both knew what kind of person Rita Skeeter was.

They were sitting at a table by the window in the library, with two large stacks of books placed near the aisle to avoid being seen by the librarian, Mrs. Pince. Harry also used a somewhat clumsy whispering spell to keep their voices from being too loud.

Ron laughed so hard he nearly fell over, slumped onto the table, and pounded his fists on the surface. "Ouch... going against the grain of black terror... I think she's deliberately trying to stir up trouble." After he finished laughing, he said seriously, "Should we write her an anonymous letter to give her a heads-up?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows: "We can't reveal that... You know, we assured Headmaster Dumbledore."

“Well,” Ron said regretfully, “I doubt she’ll believe it anyway. She’ll just think we’re spreading rumors and throw the letter in the trash… Maybe Dumbledore has already told Fudge.”

“That’s possible.” Hermione nodded, agreeing with him.

Harry took the newspaper, flipped to page four, and sure enough, he saw Mr. Barty Crouch's resume, which was very detailed and even included his family, making it much easier for Harry.

“Look here,” he said, pointing to a line of small print. “Barty Crouch was a man with a bright future, the closest he could get to the position of Minister of Magic. But because he had a Death Eater son, his reputation plummeted. He was forced to transfer to the Department of International Magical Exchange and Cooperation as its director. And a few years later, not only did his son die in Azkaban, but his wife, who had always been in poor health, also passed away not long after…”

Ron and Hermione stared at him in surprise. Harry said, "Yes, we all know who Voldemort's spy is, but the problem is... he's officially dead."

“This is unbelievable, could it be Barty Crouch…” Ron looked at the two of them meaningfully.

"You're saying he abused his power for personal gain?" Hermione shrieked.

After thinking it over for a while, they couldn't think of any other possibilities. The most crucial point was that Ron had said, "That's his son." In the end, they had to conclude that Buddy Crouch had somehow tricked Azkaban and altered the official records.

They had mixed feelings about Barty Crouch lying in the school hospital. On one hand, he was a victim, but on the other hand, he might have secretly trampled on the law and let a heinous Death Eater go free. This Death Eater had found his biggest backer and was devising plans for his former master to make a comeback.

Seeing that the atmosphere was really serious, Hermione took a piece of parchment from the book "The Fifth Element Controversy" and handed it to Harry and Ron.

Harry looked at the poem-like object in his hand and read the first line: "Find us, where our voices are—what is this?"

“The information deciphered from the golden egg,” Hermione said briefly.

Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed, their heads huddled together, as they read the contents:

'Find us, where our voices are heard,'

We cannot sing on the ground.

When you are searching, please keep the following key points in mind:

Purple represents power;

Blue represents wisdom;

Gold represents growth.

Seize the moment, for crisis can be everywhere;

After careful consideration, a choice is inevitable.

When the gold overflows

You will see each other.

Returning home with a full load.

Harry and Ron took a deep breath and stared blankly at what was on it.

“My gut feeling tells me that the second project will definitely be difficult,” Ron said pessimistically.

Harry agreed, and he tried to decipher the message: "Hmm—find us where the sound is coming from. You can't sing on land. So, the second project is in the water? The Black Lake?"

Hermione nodded cheerfully. "That's what I think too. Go on, let's compare our ideas."