"Snape told me," Arthur explained. "He was at the Quidditch World Cup too, remember? He recognized Barty's identity back then and mentioned it to me afterward."
Harry frowned. "Then why didn't you tell me when I talked to you about my dream?"
Arthur shrugged. "You didn't ask. Besides, at the time he'd already been caught by the Ministry. Telling you wouldn't have changed anything."
Harry was momentarily speechless.
Thinking about it, that really was the case.
When he'd described his dream to Arthur, his focus had been entirely on Voldemort.
Barty Crouch Jr. had barely registered in his mind.
Arthur rubbed his chin. "But now that I think about it, he might've escaped again later."
That remark made something click for Harry.
"You mean… Mr. Crouch's death might be connected to his son?"
Harry's thoughts raced.
Old Crouch had personally sent Barty Jr. to Azkaban. There was no way Barty wouldn't harbor deep hatred toward him.
If Barty Jr. really had escaped, infiltrated Hogwarts under Voldemort's orders, and planned to make a move against Harry…
Then it wasn't impossible that old Crouch had stumbled upon his actions and been silenced as a result.
Harry's reasoning wasn't entirely accurate—but the conclusion was.
Barty Jr. really was the one who had killed old Crouch.
Arthur nodded, affirming Harry's guess.
At that moment, Dumbledore spoke up from the side.
"Would someone be kind enough to enlighten an old man?" he asked mildly. "What dream of Harry's are we discussing? And what does Barty Crouch Jr. have to do with it?"
Listening to Arthur and Harry talk back and forth, he felt completely left out.
Harry didn't answer him. Instead, he turned back to Arthur and asked, "Barty Crouch Jr. is supposed to be—"
Arthur waved a hand. "Officially, the Ministry announced his death over a decade ago. But since he's clearly shown up again, he must've used some method to fake his death and escape Azkaban."
He gestured toward Dumbledore. "You'd better explain things to our Headmaster first."
By now, Dumbledore's expression had darkened noticeably.
He had the distinct feeling that ever since Harry became Hogwarts' champion, the boy had started to get a little… carried away.
Sneaking a look at his memories was one thing—but repeatedly ignoring his questions was another.
Dumbledore felt exhausted.
For a fleeting moment, he even wondered whether it might be easier to just replace the Chosen One.
Seeing the stormy look on Dumbledore's face, Harry hurriedly explained everything from beginning to end.
When Dumbledore learned that Harry had only seen the memory of Karkaroff's trial, he quietly let out a sigh of relief.
"If things truly are as Arthur suspects," Dumbledore said gravely, "then Barty Crouch Jr. is very likely still at Hogwarts."
He turned to Harry. "Harry, you must be extremely careful. Don't wander alone under any circumstances."
Harry nodded. "I understand."
Dumbledore then looked to Arthur. "And you—where do you think Barty Crouch Jr. might be?"
"How would I know?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "Though there is one person who's pretty suspicious."
"Who?"
"The first person who discovered old Crouch's body."
In truth, Arthur didn't actually know who had found the body first.
But experienced criminals often liked to disguise themselves as witnesses and report the crime.
And considering that "Moody" had been present during Dumbledore and Fudge's argument earlier…
Arthur made a bold guess—that "Moody" had pretended to be the first discoverer.
Dumbledore's response confirmed that Arthur hadn't guessed wrong.
"You mean Alastor?" Dumbledore said, startled. "That's impossible."
Arthur shrugged. "Then how do you explain him skipping dinner and wandering into the Forbidden Forest of all places?"
Dumbledore fell silent.
He really couldn't think of a reasonable excuse.
Without waiting for an answer, Arthur continued, "In any case, just stay alert. If there's nothing else, I'm heading out."
With that, he stood up and left.
It was already late, and he'd promised Huangxi he'd take her out for a midnight snack.
Arthur hadn't gone far from the Headmaster's office when he ran into Karkaroff and Snape at a corner.
Karkaroff was visibly agitated, rolling up his sleeve to show the Dark Mark on his arm.
"This is a sign, Severus!" he said excitedly. "You and I both know what it means!"
Arthur's footsteps caught their attention.
Seeing him, Arthur greeted them casually. "Oh? Showing off tattoos, are we?"
Karkaroff ignored the joke, yanked his sleeve back down, and left without a word.
Snape turned to Arthur. "Why are you here?"
"Harry dragged me to the Headmaster's office," Arthur replied. "He found Mr. Crouch dead in the Forbidden Forest."
Snape sneered reflexively. "Hmph. He's still as fond of meddling as ever."
He made a mental note that Lilyan absolutely must not spend too much time with Harry—otherwise she might pick up those bad habits.
Just then, Harry's voice sounded from behind him.
"Professor, speaking ill of someone behind their back isn't a very good habit."
Caught red-handed by the person in question, Snape felt a rare flicker of embarrassment.
He immediately changed the subject.
"Congratulations on your performance in the Black Lake," he said stiffly. "Gillyweed, wasn't it?"
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"A clever idea," Snape admitted. "That's a rare herb—most people can't get their hands on it."
Before Harry could respond, Snape continued coldly, "But that doesn't justify stealing ingredients from my private stores."
Harry sighed inwardly.
He knew that whenever Snape praised him, it was never without a sting.
At the same time, he was surprised—and oddly touched—by Neville's courage.
He hadn't expected Neville, usually so timid, to dare steal from Snape's stores.
Moved by the thought, Harry decided to take the blame.
"I'm sorry, Professor," he said.
Snape's expression eased slightly.
"Gillyweed is of little consequence," Snape said.
Ever since learning about Arthur's "Zen Garden," he had never lacked for potion ingredients.
"But African tree snake skin, lacewing flies…" Snape's eyes flicked toward Arthur. "You wouldn't happen to be brewing Polyjuice Potion with your friends again, would you?"
Arthur shrugged. "Nothing to do with Hermione. She's long since outgrown such low-level formulas."
Snape knew Arthur had no reason to lie.
With Arthur's resources, Hermione certainly wouldn't need to steal ingredients from him.
Snape turned back to Harry. "Then it was you and that Weasley boy?"
Harry shook his head firmly. "I really didn't steal those."
Snape stared at him suspiciously. "You're certain?"
"Certain," Harry replied without hesitation.
Snape frowned.
If it wasn't Harry… then that meant someone else at Hogwarts had been stealing from him.
He waved a hand dismissively. "Enough. It's past curfew. Get back to your dormitory."
As Harry left, still wondering who had taken Snape's supplies, Snape finally turned to Arthur.
"Who do you think stole my things?"
Arthur didn't answer directly.
"Have you ever wondered," he asked instead, "what 'Moody' drinks every day?"
Snape's eyes widened. "You're saying he's drinking Polyjuice Potion? That 'Moody' is an impostor?"
Arthur nodded. "Mm-hm. I figured it out on the very first day of term. 'Moody' is actually Barty Crouch Jr."
Snape frowned. "But Barty Crouch Jr. was supposed to be—"
Arthur interrupted, "Have you heard any news about him being recaptured? Most likely old Crouch covered for him… and ended up letting him escape again."
The more Snape thought about it, the more plausible it sounded.
If that was true, then old Crouch was almost pitiful—going to such lengths to protect his son, only to be murdered by him in the end.
Snape asked, "Then why don't you expose him?"
Arthur waved it off. "Why should I? There's nothing in it for me. And if we expose him now, how do we draw out the one behind him?"
At Arthur's reminder, Snape recalled the man they both once served.
Voldemort.
"So," Snape asked quietly, "you're planning to make a move against him?"
If that was the case, then there was nothing to worry about.
With Arthur's strength, dealing with a Dark Lord would be trivial.
Arthur nodded. "Hermione's been improving a lot lately. I'm planning to find her an opponent—to sharpen her real combat skills."
Snape stared at him as though he'd lost his mind.
"You're saying she can handle Voldemort?"
Arthur replied casually, "How would you know if you don't try? Besides, I'll be there to back her up."
Snape considered it.
Given how much Arthur treasured Hermione, there was no way he'd let her come to any real harm.
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