Karkaroff shouted, "This man took part in the manhunt against the Longbottoms! He personally used the Cruciatus Curse to torture them in order to extract information, driving them both into permanent insanity!"
He clearly wanted to add more charges, but old Crouch cut him off impatiently.
"The name. Speak the name, now!"
Karkaroff roared, "Barty Crouch—Junior!"
The courtroom erupted into an uproar.
Old Crouch froze on the dais, his entire body going rigid.
At that moment, Barty Crouch Jr., seated among the spectators, shot to his feet.
Harry followed the commotion and looked over, only to see Barty Jr.'s face twisted with rage and madness, his eyes blazing as he locked onto Karkaroff.
The instant Karkaroff accused him, Barty Jr. lunged forward, charging straight at the man.
He meant to give this traitor to the Death Eaters a punishment he would never forget.
But before he could even reach the floor of the chamber, a curse fired from behind Harry—cast by "Mad-Eye" Moody—slammed into him and sent him crashing to the ground.
The surrounding Aurors reacted instantly, pouncing on him and pinning him down.
Barty Jr. struggled violently, screaming as he thrashed, "Take your filthy hands off me, you miserable worms!"
In the end, one man was no match for many.
Four Aurors held him down and dragged him forward, forcing him to his knees directly before old Crouch.
Barty Jr. lifted his head and greeted him with a manic grin.
"Hello, Father."
Old Crouch's face was completely devoid of emotion.
"You are not my son. Take him away."
The four Aurors hauled Barty Jr. out of the courtroom.
Even as he was dragged away, he continued shouting in his own defense. He didn't deny being a Death Eater—what he denied was having taken part in torturing the Longbottoms.
Whether Karkaroff had slandered him in desperation to secure his own release, Harry had no way of knowing.
Because at that point, Dumbledore's memory ended.
Harry lifted his head out of the Pensieve, his mind reeling from the flood of information he'd just absorbed.
What he saw next left him momentarily unable to process reality.
Arthur was sitting calmly on the office sofa, and perched on his shoulder was a crimson phoenix even more beautiful than Fawkes.
Dumbledore was circling the bird in fascination, clicking his tongue and murmuring praise nonstop.
Meanwhile, Fawkes—who had been standing proudly near the desk earlier—was now hiding in the corner, utterly withdrawn.
Time rewound slightly, back to the moment Harry first entered Dumbledore's memory.
From Arthur's perspective, Harry had touched one of the silver strands in the Pensieve and promptly plunged headfirst into it.
If the liquid inside hadn't been magical, that dive alone would have drowned him.
Arthur had no interest in the memories of a centenarian—especially when that centenarian happened to be an old man with questionable tastes.
Besides, who knew how many times Dumbledore had dunked his wrinkled face into that basin?
With his mild germophobia, Arthur had absolutely no desire to touch the Pensieve.
He wandered around the office instead, admiring the decor, and even exchanged a greeting with the Sorting Hat.
When he stopped in front of Fawkes, he suddenly thought of Huangxi—the phoenix who shared the same lineage.
That homebody bird spent all day sleeping in the Zen Garden, to the point that Arthur almost forgot about her.
This was the perfect chance to wake her up, let her stretch her wings, and maybe have her meet her Western counterpart.
Arthur summoned Huangxi out.
She had clearly just been woken up.
Rubbing her eyes drowsily, she asked, "Arthur… why did you call me out?"
Arthur laughed. "Nothing important. Just wanted you to come out and have some fun. And maybe meet one of your kin."
As he spoke, he pointed at Fawkes on his perch.
Fawkes stared blankly at Huangxi.
After spending his days with Dumbledore, that doddering old man, he had never seen a phoenix this stunning.
When Huangxi looked back at him, Fawkes spread his wings proudly, showing off his most magnificent posture.
It was likely a Western phoenix's courtship display.
Unfortunately for him, Huangxi was an Eastern phoenix—and she was not impressed.
"Just him?" she scoffed. "His bloodline is so thin it's laughable. He can't even speak properly, and you call that my kin? Spare me."
Fawkes couldn't understand Huangxi's words, but he understood her disdain perfectly.
His head drooped.
He slunk off into the corner, thoroughly self-isolating.
Arthur shook his head with a helpless smile.
Huangxi had always spoken gently with him, so he'd half suspected that the ancient texts describing phoenixes as proud and aloof were exaggerated.
Now it seemed that wasn't the case—she just didn't treat him that way.
Seeing her arrogant side after being so used to her gentle demeanor was oddly entertaining.
Huangxi ignored Fawkes completely once he retreated.
Now fully awake, she decided to chat with Arthur since she was already out.
"Got anything to eat?" she asked.
Arthur casually produced a packet of dried meat. "You can have this for now. Later, we'll go grab a proper midnight snack."
Huangxi accepted it, eating as she surveyed the surroundings.
"This is where you live in the West?" she asked.
"No," Arthur replied. "This is my school's Headmaster's office. I live in a dormitory. Though, as you know, I spend most of my time in the Zen Garden."
Huangxi nodded. It was hard to tell whether a phoenix who'd been宅 for over a thousand years actually understood him.
She then pointed at Harry, who was still leaning over the Pensieve.
"What's that guy doing? Your friend?"
"Yes," Arthur said. "His name's Harry."
He explained the function of the Pensieve to her.
Huangxi commented coolly, "Humans really are fragile. They can't even bear too many memories."
She added silently to herself: except Arthur.
"Not every race is as naturally blessed as phoenixes," Arthur said with a smile. "Humans may be fragile, but they're creative. They use their strengths to compensate for their weaknesses. That's exactly what the Pensieve is for."
Huangxi nodded thoughtfully.
At that moment, Dumbledore returned, having seen Fudge out.
The instant he entered, his eyes locked onto Huangxi.
"This is… an Eastern phoenix?" Dumbledore exclaimed as he approached. "I heard you went east last summer. It seems you found yourself a remarkable companion."
"Mhm. This is Huangxi," Arthur said. "Huangxi, this is Dumbledore—the Headmaster of this school. You can think of him as the leader here."
"Hello," Huangxi said, giving Dumbledore a brief nod.
Dumbledore stared in amazement. "She can speak!"
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Is that strange? Do phoenixes speaking surprise you?"
Dumbledore replied, "Fawkes has been with me for many years, and I've never heard him say a single word."
"Species difference, maybe?" Arthur offered tactfully.
Huangxi, however, had no such restraint.
"Don't compare that impure-blooded fool to me," she said bluntly.
It was the first time Dumbledore had learned that phoenixes apparently had their own version of blood purity debates.
Arthur gently patted Huangxi on the head, signaling her to tone it down.
After all, even scolding a dog meant considering its owner—criticizing someone's companion to their face wasn't exactly polite.
"Huangxi speaks very directly," Arthur said apologetically. "Please don't mind her."
Dumbledore nodded, indicating that he understood. Phoenixes were, after all, famously proud creatures.
He circled Huangxi, marveling.
This was the first time he'd observed an Eastern phoenix up close. The last one he'd seen in Kunlun had vanished in the blink of an eye before he could get a proper look.
Being stared at so intently made Huangxi uncomfortable. Since Dumbledore wasn't actually doing anything, she couldn't complain outright—
So she hopped onto Arthur's shoulder instead.
Arthur stepped in to defuse the situation. "Alright, that's enough staring. Huangxi is a girl—it's not very polite to look at her like that. And Harry's already back from your memory."
He pointed to Harry, who was standing by the Pensieve watching them.
"Curiosity is not a bad thing, Harry," Dumbledore said sternly. "But you must act with caution."
No one enjoyed having their memories peered into.
And with Arthur present, Dumbledore wasn't about to ask which memory Harry had seen.
"I'm sorry, sir," Harry apologized.
Recalling what he'd witnessed in the memory, Harry turned to Arthur.
"Arthur, I know who the Death Eater in my dream was."
Harry had previously told Arthur about that strange dream—including the scene where a man used Harry's wand to cast the Dark Mark before being subdued by Ministry Aurors.
When Harry woke up, he'd recognized that man immediately.
At the time, he just hadn't known the man's identity.
Now he did.
Arthur spoke the name without hesitation.
"Barty Crouch Jr."
Harry froze, staring at him in shock.
"How did you know?"
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