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When Maca stepped on the radiated firelight and followed Mad-Eye into the principal's office quietly, what he could feel was a heavy tranquility.

Dumbledore sat behind the desk, white light was reflected on the half-moon-shaped lenses, and pale blue eyes loomed behind the glass.

And in front of the desk, Barty Crouch was standing there with his head bowed, as if he was recalling something, his back looked so depressed.

"Mr. Crouch...it's me who sent your child away with my own hands."

Maca's words were not loud, but when they suddenly sounded in the silent principal's room, they sounded like a thunder from the ground, and suddenly exploded in Crouch's ears.

However, Maca did not wait for the reprimand and scolding he imagined, even though he thought that it would definitely make the old father feel better.

"Thank you..."

What kind of complicated emotions would make an old father who just lost his child say "thank you" with a dry voice?

The answer came quickly, but it caught people off guard.

"Thank you for doing something I've never been able to do, I don't blame you..."

Maca couldn't help but suddenly realized.

He could even imagine how contradictory and painful this old father felt in his heart when he faced his child's obsessive behavior again and again, and even locked his father at home and almost starved to death.

Barty Crouch is not a saint who sticks to the concept of good and evil. He also sacrificed all kinds of care for his family for his career.

When Barty Crouch Jr.'s identity as a Death Eater was suddenly exposed, he was the director of the Department of Legal Enforcement who personally sentenced his son Barty Jr. to Azkaban.

But under the crying and pleading of his seriously ill wife, he still secretly replaced Barty Jr. out of Azkaban, and the price he paid was his wife's few remaining lives.

He resorted to all kinds of means, and he did not hesitate to use the Imperius Curse and the Invisibility Cloak to restrict Barty Jr., so as to prevent his restless son from appearing in front of the public again, and accidentally lost his hard-won second life. .

But even so, he is still very clear about his son's character.

To be honest, my son is very smart - even smarter than himself! I am afraid that it is only a matter of time before I can quietly escape from my own restrictions.

However, can a father do something to his own son?

No, if others don't mention it first, at least he can't do it at all. He has understood this from the beginning.

"There is something I think you need to know..." Maca nodded calmly and said, "When everything is over, your son Barty Crouch Jr. will serve as a spy against Voldemort The public knows."

"Although he himself may not be so willing... But I believe that he will have enough time to think and feel the beauty of being sincerely appreciated and admired by others."

"As Professor Dumbledore often said - for a wizard, death is never the end."

Even Maca is far from understanding the true meaning of this sentence, but in this world, there is probably no one more qualified than him to say this sentence.

"I don't know, whether he can understand this truth..." Crouch sighed softly, and there was a gleam of crystal in his bloodshot eyes.

"Well, there are still some things, I would like to ask you to take a look..." Maca said, looking back at Dumbledore, "Professor, I would like to borrow your Pensieve."

Dumbledore was looking at Maca at the moment, and when he heard the request, he nodded with a smile on his face.

Maca also nodded to Dumbledore, then turned around and took a few steps, and gently opened a black cabinet door.

Immediately, a shimmering silver water light gradually spread, attracting the attention of everyone present.

In the black vertical cabinet, there is a delicate white stone platform,

There is a shallow stone basin sunken down on the stone platform, and densely packed letters and symbols are engraved on the mouth of the basin.

Those silver lights are emitted by the things in the basin, they look like liquid, but the feeling of rising slightly is like a kind of gas.

It is like a piece of bright mercury, constantly rotating and flowing, with layers of ripples, elegant and dreamy.

At this time, Maca pulled out his wand from his cuff, and slowly pulled it against his temple, a bunch of the same silver-white floc was gently pulled out along with the tip of his wand.

There is no incantation in the magic of extracting memory, it can be regarded as a by-product of practicing soul magic.

Generally speaking, any wizard who has mastered both "Occlumency" and "Legiliency" can do this after some research and with some tricks of Transfiguration.

After putting the flocculent silver thread into the Pensieve, Maca stirred it with a magic wand, and the silver flowing in the basin immediately spun faster.

"Mr. Crouch, please see—"

He stood aside, gave up the position in front of the Pensieve, and gestured with his hand.

Crouch stepped forward and looked down.

The silver object became transparent and looked like glass. He leaned forward and looked carefully, but he didn't see the bottom of the stone basin.

"That is--"

Crouch seemed to have seen something, he murmured in a low voice, but before he finished speaking, he found himself in a forest...

"Mr. McLean?"

The first thing he saw was a frowning Maca walking towards him.

But when he wanted to step forward to inquire, he found that Maca walked towards him as if he didn't see him, and passed through his body when he backed away in panic.

"Damn...McLean, you're finally here!"

Accompanied by the rattling sound of teeth chattering, a mellow but somewhat dry male voice came from behind Crouch.

Crouch turned his head and immediately recognized the shivering man sitting by the tree trunk.

Although he was different from the glamorous gentleman in the past who pretended to be elegant everywhere, he would never admit that he was wrong. It was obviously Gilderoy Lockhart, the "big writer" who is still widely loved by women and children in the magical world. .

And right at Lockhart's feet, the stiff Barty Crouch Jr. seemed to be in a deep coma.

"Is this... in McLean's memory?"

Judging from the behavior before contacting Maca, it is not difficult for normal people to analyze this conclusion.

"Stop complaining, I know it's hard for you to suffer from the cold and hunger here...but I'm not much better than you!" Maca waved her hand impatiently, and then looked at Little Barty who was lying on the ground .

At this time, Maca had just spent that frightening night. To be honest, he was able to leave Luna's ward and run to the Forbidden Forest to wrap up the matter, which was already considered pretty good.

"How, has he woken up?" Maca asked.

"No, I've been applying the Stunning Curse to him, otherwise I might not be able to completely control him." Lockhart rubbed his arms, trembling all over.

"Fortunately, you finally know that you can't light a fire here to keep warm..."

As Maca said, she knelt down and stretched out her wand, and nodded to Little Barty.

The next moment, Little Barty, who was still in a coma, immediately woke up, squinted his eyes and looked around vigilantly.

"Barty Crouch Jr., can you figure out what's going on?"

Under Maca's seemingly impatient questioning, little Barty's eyes widened immediately, and he struggled angrily, but he didn't find his wand when he touched his waist.

"You don't have to resist, you have no chance."

Maca just waved his wand in front of his eyes, and he immediately calmed down—no way, he was scared by Maca's soul magic at the time, and the kind of deep-rooted fear had already penetrated into his soul. root.

For black magic admirers like Batty Jr., they are usually the ones who are most in awe of black magic.

"You betrayed the master! You betrayed the Lord Dark Lord!" Although little Barty no longer dared to struggle, he still shouted with a grim expression.

But Maca shook her head.

"Me? Betrayed Voldemort?" He chuckled, "I was never his subordinate, even in front of him, I said so..."

After speaking, Maca thought for a moment, and then continued: "I can give you a chance, a chance to atone for yourself and your father - as long as you prove to the public that Voldemort has returned in full power, Then you don't have to die, how about it?"

"Proof? Hmph...will you believe what I said? Ridiculous!" Little Barty sneered contemptuously, turning his head aside.

"Me?" Maca shook his head and said, "No, no, it's not me, but the entire magic world that you should trust! Do you understand?"

"Tell you! Impossible!" Little Barty shouted loudly, "I will never betray my master! Lord Dark Lord has boundless magic power!"

The corner of Maca's eyes twitched, he raised his wand, but after a pause, he put it down again.

"Even if you don't think about yourself, don't you really think about your father?" He said coldly, "Even if it's for your mother who died in Azkaban?"

"Father... Hahaha! You want me to think about that father who only has the Minister of Magic in his eyes? You want me to think about that ignorant mother who only wants me to learn from that idiot father? Hahahaha...cough Keke..."

Little Barty laughed like crazy, waving his arms like a lunatic, and his laughter was full of contempt for Maca's persuasive words.

On the side, old Barty Crouch was full of pain and remorse—wasn't he the one who raised such an unrepentant son?

"Cough cough cough..."

He seemed to be choking on the saliva, coughing so much that one could not help but worry that he would cough up his lungs.