Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

There’s nothing unspeakable about the process of deduction. Vid merely omitted the part about his discussion with Antoine, then specifically mentioned the hint given to him by Malfoy.

The process of identifying Filch was even simpler in his recounting—

In the entire school, Filch was the person easiest to approach for outsiders, and also the person most likely to be overlooked. Meanwhile, his change in attitude towards Vid was also an obvious flaw.

On the surface, Vid had little interaction with Filch, so Barty never realized that the administrator, hated by all students and even professors, could have a day where he formed a friendship with someone.

He didn’t even consider this possibility during Legilimency.

In a certain respect, this Death Eater was very similar to his master, the Dark Lord—they both shared the same arrogance and stubbornness.

After listening to the entire process, Sirius, who witnessed everything, revealed an expression of sudden realization. Dumbledore’s eyes flashed with approval.

”Very perceptive, Vid.”

The headmaster gazed at him warmly, finally revealing a smile on his face.

”But what delights me more is that when most people were focusing on places that shone with light, you treated our administrator with kindness, discovered his overlooked value, and made him willing to trust and support you.”

Sirius suddenly shifted his seat uncomfortably and scratched his face.

Dumbledore said, ”This is your most precious quality—you see those places shrouded in shadows, those weak who cannot voice their needs... This quality is more precious than the trophy of a championship.”

After pausing, he said in a low voice, ”Never lose it, Vid.”

After a moment of silence, Vid softly responded, ”Yes, Professor.”

The mighty dam can be breached by tiny ant holes.

He was well aware of the enormous power that a tiny spark could ignite and spread, which is why Vid never underestimated these people, whether or not they possessed magic.

And this is something Voldemort could never understand. Even Dumbledore... might not truly be able to lower his gaze.

...

During their conversation, Snape and Moody had already returned with the Magic Potion, and even Professor McGonagall had come back to Filch’s office with Moody.

This small room probably welcomed so many visitors for the first time, with parchment and broken file cabinets still piled on the floor. Dumbledore waved his Magic Wand, making the messy items stack into a corner, thus giving everyone some room to stand.

Moody, with a sullen face, poured the Magic Potion into the mouth of the ”Imposter Filch.”

In an instant, Barty’s body began to convulse violently, with countless small snakes seemingly slithering under his skin.

His nose twisted and rose, his gray-white hair gradually turned hay-like pale blond, his wrinkled face flowed and morphed like melting wax, eventually transforming into a young yet haggard face.

When the transformation ended, the person lying on the ground was a thirty-something wizard, with sunken cheeks making his cheekbones appear overly prominent, bloodshot eyes, and fingers twitching nervously.

”Crouch!” Snape couldn’t help but take a step back, his voice breaking with rare fluctuations: ”Barty Crouch Jr!”

Because Barty’s facial bones grew back, the pain brought him back from unconsciousness. Hearing the voices, he turned his head to see Snape, then let his gaze sweep over the faces of Dumbledore and others.

Professor McGonagall suddenly stepped forward, blocking Vid, preventing Barty from staring at her student.

”Oh, Severus...” Barty showed a manic hint of a smile, with a tone that hissed like a snake: ”Seeing old friends, are you happy?”

Contrary to Snape, Moody stepped forward without hesitation, prying open Barty’s jaw and dripping Veritaserum inside.

Barty struggled intensely on the ground, but Sirius stepped on his shoulder, helplessly watching the transparent potion fall into his mouth.

”No... no...” he mumbled, saliva flowing down his chin: ”Don’t think... that you’ll get... information from me...”

With deep hatred on his face, Moody’s hand clamped Barty’s throat like pincers, holding him until his struggling force gradually weakened, his pupils dilated, and his gaze turned hollow.

Moody released his grip and wiped his robe hem vigorously.

Dumbledore then crouched in front of Barty, asking calmly: ”Can you hear me speaking?”

Barty’s eyelids fluttered as he monotonously replied, ”I can hear.”

”Tell us your experience, Barty Crouch,” Dumbledore said, ”starting from when you left Azkaban.”

Barty spoke in a dreamy tone:

”My... my mother pleaded with the man I called father, to steal me out of Azkaban. She drank Polyjuice Potion... transformed into my likeness, stayed in prison... and then died...”

”My father hid me at home, controlled me with the Imperio curse... made me wear the Invisibility Cloak... the House-Elf looked after me. Later...”

”Later, at one time, it seemed some island incident occurred. He suddenly became busy, leaving for a trip overnight... forgot to cast a spell on me... I temporarily escaped his control, regained consciousness... then at home, I found my mother’s old Magic Wand... knocked out the House-Elf, and fled...”

”I knew he kept searching for me... trying to capture me back... but it was useless... because finally, I found the master...”

Barty’s breath grew rapid, and his face revealed a proud, joyous smile.

”The master... ha, the master was much smarter than my father... he even thought of using the Forbidden Magic from the Department of Mysteries, making everyone believe we were dead...”

”Department of Mysteries?” Moody muttered, ”How could he dare meddle with that? Even amongst the Unspeakables, I bet few would claim they understand the magic within.”

”The master needs Harry Potter, needs... to revive in a stronger form... the great Dark Lord cannot have weaknesses... so I tried everything possible, to bring the boy to him...”

”I found some ancient Dark Magic in the Department of Mysteries... The Quidditch World Cup finals was a good opportunity; Harry Potter, like his father, loves Quidditch, surely he’ll attend the match.”

”But the enchanted forest... was wiped out by meddlesome Witch Pure Party; after the mascot consumed Magic Potion, it turned frenzied bloodthirsty, creating chaos in the campsite, which was once an excellent opportunity. I caught Harry Potter...”

The people in the office were suddenly shocked, exclaiming together, ”What?”

They looked at Barty, then at Dumbledore, their eyes full of questions—”How did we not know about this?”

Then, Barty’s face flashed deep fear and hatred.

”I thought I had caught him... presented him to the master, but unexpectedly... it was all that guy’s trap, he unleashed an extremely terrifying magic that once again destroyed the master’s body...”

”What?!”

The people in the office once again shouted in amazement.

Moody abruptly stood up, his wooden peg leg slipping, almost causing him to fall; Professor McGonagall instinctively pressed her hand against her chest, as if trying to hold back a heart nearly leaping out of her ribs.

Snape’s reaction was the most controlled, yet also the most complex. His pupils contracted instantly, but the next second, his expression solidified into a mask of indifference.

His mind flashed an image of a face almost identical to James Potter’s, murmuring, ”How... can this be?”

His voice was so light, it practically sounded like talking to himself, every word squeezed through his teeth.

However, Sirius immediately jumped up, shouting loudly, ”What did you say?”

Then he immediately realized, frowning: ”No! I asked Harry, he wasn’t acting alone on that night! Instead...”

Sirius’s eyes suddenly widened, nearly exclaiming but suddenly swallowed his words.

He restrained himself from looking at Vid, while a thought unexpectedly flashed in his mind:

On that night, Vid had once left alone...