Barty Crouch Jr.'s black robes billowed in the wind, and a faint flush appeared on his pale face—his expression so joyful it could almost be called blissful.
He had used his own Transfiguration Charm to turn the proud Lucius Malfoy into a toad, and even used a golden ring cursed by Voldemort himself. All in all, it was practically as if he and the Dark Lord had together punished that disgraceful traitor.
What a shame there wasn't more time—there were more important things to do. Otherwise, he would have cast the Cruciatus Curse seventeen or eighteen times, just to let Lucius truly feel the depth of his rage and hatred.
—How dare that lowlife claim he and I are no different?
In Barty's eyes, that was the vilest insult imaginable, one that could never be repaid too harshly.
But when he thought of Lucius Malfoy—who once insisted every hair be sleek and perfect—now doomed to live in stinking slime, surviving on cockroaches, worms, flies, and spiders, Barty's anger vanished, replaced by an almost giddy urge to laugh.
In high spirits, he walked out of the forest, dropped a strand of black hair into a small vial of Polyjuice Potion, stirred it a few times, then held it out.
A bat swooped down from a tree and transformed into human form. With a fearful glance at Barty, the man took the vial of potion.
"Bring Harry Potter to me," Barty instructed. "Sirius Black is his godfather—it'll be easy for you to earn his trust."
"Yes," said Gale Troka.
He drank a mouthful of the Polyjuice Potion, endured the searing pain as his bones melted and reformed, and within seconds, he had taken on Sirius Black's appearance.
In silence, he changed into Sirius's clothes, picked up Sirius's wand, and walked off without another word.
Over the past few nights, he had already followed Harry and the others and figured out where their tent was.
Tonight, with the adult wizards all distracted by the chaos in the camp, the students—no matter how skilled—would be vulnerable. And with the potions and tools Barty had given him, taking down one child by surprise wouldn't be difficult.
His conscience ached faintly… but with his life in someone else's hands, he had no choice.
Gale shoved away the guilt, mimicked Sirius Black's expressions, and ran toward the Black family's tent.
He had no idea what awaited him.
…
After the fake Sirius left, Barty didn't stay behind to wait. He knew that bat—if successful—would find a way to locate him.
The Death Eater pulled up his hood and strode quickly toward the chaotic camp.
Though Voldemort had not yet fully returned, and his infant-like body was still extremely fragile, the Dark Lord—whom Barty believed to be the greatest Dark wizard of all time—still possessed staggering magical knowledge.
While serving at Voldemort's side, Barty had received a wealth of instruction. Not only had his Transfiguration skills vastly improved, but he had also been introduced to all manner of ancient and dark curses.
After the forest curse failed, Barty turned his attention to the camp and suddenly realized that the mascots brought by the Irish team were the perfect targets for enchantment—
Hundreds upon hundreds of leprechauns going berserk would surely cause far more chaos than a few clumsy trees.
And now, everything was progressing just as Barty had hoped.
Even though Dumbledore himself had arrived at the camp, trying to control an uncountable swarm of deranged leprechauns and keeping them from rampaging into nearby Muggle towns. But this was not something that could be solved with a few powerful spells.
Barty Crouch Jr. used a Disillusionment Charm, and strolled casually through the camp as if nothing were wrong.
He had also sprinkled himself with a special powder made from leprechaun hair and nails—thanks to this, the mutated leprechauns mistook him as one of their own and left him alone.
Others, however, weren't so lucky. A few adult wizards stood back to back in a circle, shielding a group of terrified children in the middle.
A dozen leprechauns were attacking them, and spells were flying from the wizards' wands nonstop.
"Aim! Aim!" someone shouted.
"They're flying too fast!" a witch cried. "We need to wait until they're closer and—"
She was cut off by a scream—as one of the wizards on the other side panicked and fired spells wildly, because of that a leprechaun broke through their protective circle. Its sharp claws slashed a deep wound across his shoulder before lunging at the small boy in the center.
"Stupefy!"
A spell struck the leprechaun just in time. Amos Diggory from the Ministry of Magic rushed over and shouted loudly: "Don't stay here! Retreat into the forest!"
Barty sneered, strolling past the scene. As he walked by a tent built like a fortress, he suddenly heard an out-of-place voice inside:
"Don't worry, ladies—I'll protect you."
A freckle-faced wizard was standing at the tent door like a knight, boasting, "I don't like to brag, but just last month, I tamed a Hungarian Horntail!"
Barty raised an eyebrow and crept up to the window for a look inside—only to see two Veela sitting gracefully in the room. Their long hairs were glowing with a soft silver light and they had gentle smiles on their beautiful faces .
——Are there still a few fish that have slipped through the net?
He silently raised his wand and pointed it at the Veela, and lips moved as he whispered a spell.
Several wizards surrounded the Veela inside, oblivious to the chaos outside, falling over themselves to impress the women.
"I'm a dueling champion," one wizard puffed out his chest. "I don't even need a wand to take down a hundred leprechauns in one go!"
"I... I have a Portkey," stammered a balding man in ragged robes. "It can take you directly to my manor... I mean, my family runs a transcontinental shipping business—I make enough Galleons in a month to fill a whole room..."
Suddenly, pain twisted across the Veela's beautiful face. One of them opened her mouth as if to speak—but only a shriek escaped as her head tilted back.
Her body began to twist and mutate. In an instant, her long, elegant form transformed into a creature with a bird's head, talons, and wide wings.
Her yellow-brown eyes glowed with bloodthirsty hatred as she lunged at the wizards in front of her.
Screams echoed behind Barty, who turned away in satisfaction.
He weaved through the chaos, staying out of the Aurors' line of sight. From time to time, he secretly cast spells to release already-contained leprechauns or create new trouble for Ministry personnel—doing whatever he could to prolong the mayhem until Gale brought Harry Potter to him.
Suddenly, Barty stopped in his tracks, and his eyes wide as he looked ahead. His expression turned from shock to displeasure, and finally to deep hatred.
Not far away, a black-haired boy with glasses had just petrified a leprechaun with a well-aimed spell. He bent down to help a heavily pregnant witch to her feet. The night breeze lifted his hair, clearly revealing the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
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