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Chapter 332: A Father's Love and a Son's Respect
Chapter 332: A Father’s Love and a Son’s Respect
"But I told you, I had no idea!"
Bagman’s round blue eyes widened, and he shouted urgently amidst the jeers.
"I had no idea! Lestrange was a friend of my father’s—I never thought he was one of the Dark Lord’s followers! I thought I was gathering intelligence for our side! Lestrange always said he would help me find a job at the Ministry of Magic after I retired from the Quidditch team. You know, I can’t keep getting chased by Bludgers forever, right?"
A wave of laughter rippled through the audience, even during the trial, he still knew how to lighten the mood.
Sherlock, however, frowned as an observer.
"Lestrange? The one Karkaroff exposed to reduce his sentence, the Death Eater who was infiltrating the Ministry of Magic?"
Mad-Eye Moody gruffly said.
"Yes, Bagman’s situation is purely a matter of bad luck. After Karkaroff exposed Lestrange, the Ministry of Magic didn’t act immediately but instead had Aurors surveil him for a while, hoping to gather more information from him."
"During this time, Bagman was looking for a way to secure his future after retiring from the British National Quidditch team. He used his father’s connection with Lestrange to get in touch with him, hoping to secure a job at the Ministry through him."
"Then, the surveilling Aurors noticed and arrested him on charges of Death Eater activities."
Dumbledore looked at Bagman, who was still defending himself on the iron chair, and softly added.
"But his luck wasn’t that bad. Shortly before his arrest, he had led the British National Quidditch team to achieve unprecedented success at the World Cup. So, apart from Barty being in a bad mood, the jury members were quite lenient with him."
As Dumbledore had predicted, after Bagman’s self-defense, a simple show of hands was held. Most of the jury members believed Bagman was innocent, concluding that he was just unlucky and had never had any prior connection with the Death Eaters.
Sherlock watched the entire trial and felt no inconsistencies. He shook his head, dispelling his doubts, and asked Dumbledore to fast-forward to the next scene.
Just as Dumbledore lightly tapped his wand to change the courtroom scene, his eyebrows suddenly raised, and he said with a peculiar expression.
"Aha, some things are just so coincidental."
Sherlock and Mad-Eye Moody looked at him with confusion. Just as they were about to ask what he meant, a figure silently appeared beside them.
Seeing the nervous, black-haired boy with glasses, Sherlock asked in surprise.
"Harry? How did you get in here?"
Harry, either from running too fast or being overly nervous, looked around at the courtroom filled with wizards, then at Sherlock, Dumbledore, and Mad-Eye Moody.
"I, I don’t know, Professor. I wanted to speak with Professor Dumbledore about something, and I saw a stone basin on the table. It sucked me in."
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly at him.
"Relax, Harry. I don’t know how you found out the password to my office, but let’s finish watching this memory first before we talk about anything else."
It was the same courtroom, but this time, a new jury was present.
Crouch, still serving as the Chief Warlock, looked even more haggard than before. He seemed to have aged decades overnight, appearing extremely fatigued. Beside him sat a frail, emaciated witch, equally worn out.
The Dementors placed the four individuals in the center of the dungeon, securing them in four chained chairs.
One of the men, a short and plump figure, stared blankly at Crouch. Another, a thinner man, appeared more nervous, his eyes darting towards the audience. A woman with thick, lustrous black hair and long lashes glared coldly at the wizards seated on the raised platform, a mocking smile playing on her lips.
The last was a young man, around twenty years old, who looked utterly terrified, trembling all over. His straw-colored hair was disheveled, and his freckled skin was pale as paper.
Seeing these four individuals, Sherlock's face instantly turned cold.
Harry, standing beside him, could clearly feel the change in Sherlock's demeanor. He had never seen Professor Forrest display such a terrifying expression.
Three of the four people on trial were familiar to Sherlock.
The young man with straw-colored hair, who looked petrified, was none other than the younger Barty Crouch Sr., who had been an informant in the Ministry of Magic, repeatedly betraying Sherlock and Eddie before being killed by Sherlock's own hand.
The mocking witch was Bellatrix, and the thin, nervous wizard beside her was her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange.
Each of these three had a deep-seated enmity with Sherlock, especially Bellatrix!
As she watched the pale, terrified young man, the frail witch beside Crouch began to sway, sobbing into a handkerchief.
Crouch stood up, looking down at the four with extreme hatred.
"You have been brought before the Council of Magical Law for sentencing", he said clearly, "Your crimes are heinous—"
"Father", Barty Crouch Jr. pleaded, devoid of the calm and confidence Sherlock had seen in him at the Ministry, "Father, please."
"—rare in their severity in this court", Crouch raised his voice to drown out his son's cries, "We have heard the charges against you. You four kidnapped an Auror, Frank Longbottom, and used the Cruciatus Curse on him to extract information about the whereabouts of your master, the Dark Lord—"
"Father, I didn't!" Barty Crouch Jr. screamed from his chair, "I swear, Father, don't send me back to the Dementors—"
"The charges also state", Crouch roared, "that when Frank Longbottom refused to provide information, you used the Cruciatus Curse on his wife. You conspired to bring the Dark Lord back to power, to restore the violent lifestyle you enjoyed during his reign of terror!"
"Mother!" Barty Crouch Jr. shouted, the frail witch beside Crouch sobbing and swaying, "Mother, stop him, Mother, I didn't do those things, it wasn't me!"
"Now I call upon the jury to vote", Crouch declared loudly, "Those who agree that these crimes warrant a life sentence in Azkaban, please raise your hands!"
The wizards on the right side of the courtroom raised their hands in unison, and the audience, like during Bagman's trial, burst into applause, but this time with a cruel, victorious expression on their faces.
(End of Chapter)
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