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"...I thought you were a wizard who truly understood the charm of black magic...I thought you were the closest powerful follower to your master...but now I understand, you are just another hypocrite under Dumbledore It's just an idiot!"

"I'm not afraid of your soul magic! Come on! If you can't kill me today, I'll let you see what real black magic is!"

The thinking of Barty Crouch Jr. has been completely eroded by the power of darkness, but what influenced him and corrupted him was not only Voldemort's evil thoughts, but also the negative induction brought to him by various black magic.

Looking at the desperate and completely crazy Barty Crouch Jr., Maca shook his head lightly.

In fact, Maca's words are already obvious.

He didn't want Barty Jr.'s life at all, because it didn't have much value to him now, but who knew that once Barty Jr.'s stubborn temper came up, he was not even willing to compromise for survival,

"In that case, then you still..."

Before Maca finished speaking, he saw Little Barty suddenly burst into a rage, stabbing towards him with a strange-shaped dagger in his hand.

"Hahaha... Come on! Kill me! Kill me!"

Looking at that posture, it seemed that he wanted to counterattack before dying, forcing Maca to recite the mantra reflexively without even being able to say the second half of the sentence.

"...Avada Kedavra."

The penetrating green light silently lit up in the bushes of the Forbidden Forest, and then went out quietly. Little Barty just stretched his neck like that, lay powerlessly on the ground, and stopped breathing.

But Maca found that, whether it was a coincidence or not, his left hand was awkwardly resting on his neck.

Maca seemed to think about it for a while, and then tugged Little Batty's left hand. Immediately afterwards, a brass key tied with a black rope that was originally hanging around his neck was pulled out of the collar by Maca.

Old Batty stood beside the tree trunk, staring at the key, panting vigorously. His feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, and he couldn't move half a step at all.

The next moment, the surrounding dense forest and the son lying on the ground suddenly disappeared, and the surroundings turned into darkness and dead silence. In the blink of an eye, he felt that his body became lighter and was quietly rising with a hidden force.

Then, accompanied by a wave of suction from behind, he turned around, and he felt the sense of down-to-earth again.

The stone basin was still shining in the cabinet in front of him, and Maca was still standing beside him with one hand on his shoulder, preventing him from falling due to his unstable center of gravity .

"...Mr. Crouch...Mr. Crouch?"

Old Batty, who was still immersed in the last moment, stood in front of the stone basin in a daze, only to feel Maca's call from far and near, bringing his thoughts back to reality.

"Uh...thank you..." Old Batty turned his head and looked at Maca who was supporting him, with a hint of confusion still in his eyes.

Seeing that Crouch had stabilized himself, Maca stretched out his wand and stirred it in the Pensieve again, then brought up the flocculent memory from before, and completely dissipated it with a wave of his hand.

"...that...that key?"

Old Batty seemed to understand something, subconsciously reached into his trousers pocket, and tremblingly took out a brass key that was exactly the same as the one he had just seen.

It was this brass key that Batty Jr. used to trap his father in the magic box; rescued.

When old Batty was rescued by Sirius, he was already dehydrated. If Maca failed to notice the key, old Batty who was not rescued in time would probably die of thirst in the box.

Even Maca couldn't tell whether little Batty's last action was a coincidence or not.

But now, the truth is not so important anymore.

"...thanks...yes,

thanks..."

Old Batty's eyes moved from the key to Maca's face, and he thanked him sincerely.

He may be thanking Maca for indirectly saving his life, or maybe thanking Maca for allowing him to see what he wants to see...

Maca just nodded, and then watched old Barty say goodbye to Dumbledore and Moody, then walked away slowly with a hunched back. It was as if he came here today just to see what Maca looked like, so he hardly said a few words.

"Mr. Crouch has just returned from the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said softly, looking at the closed door of the headmaster's office, "he told me that he has just resigned. Next he plans to adopt one or two Orphans, and then accompany them to grow up well."

"Single-parent families are not easy." Maca shrugged.

Mad-Eye glanced at him, and casually said, "The Crouch family is only short of people, not money."

"They are not short of money, but we are!" Dumbledore teased, "Maka, how is the situation in the new stronghold? The old house, I'm afraid we need to pay more attention to renovating it?"

...

This early in the morning, the old and the young were chatting on Maca's side, while Harry had just woken up.

This scar-headed boy who wears a pair of black-rimmed glasses from morning to night, and who likes to lift his belt when he has nothing to do, has suddenly kept a low profile since he almost had irreparable consequences in the second project. .

He felt sorry, really sorry!

Even though he had already obtained the understanding of the person concerned, he still couldn't let go of it. He didn't know how long this depressed mood would last, maybe a month or two? One or two years?

Or forever?

Maybe time will dilute all this? I'm just not ready yet!

I need to take it easy...

Harry lay on his back on the bed, looked at the curtain above his head, and recalled the years he had been at Hogwarts.

Whether others regard him as a savior or a plague, Harry Potter is always a popular boy. Here, it seems that everyone knows him, and everyone knows the past that even he himself doesn't know.

But the foundation of this kind of popularity is based on that person who is so frightening that he dare not even have a name—oh, I remember Maca said, it seems to be because of the magic of the name?

Ok! All in all, people know him because of Voldemort!

And the word "Voldemort" has always represented cruelty, panic and death... Harry Potter really didn't want the fame associated with such a terrible guy, if he could!

With a long sigh, Harry turned over, and when he finished washing in a hurry, he found that Ron was still asleep on the bed!

Harry has actually noticed recently that Ron and Hermione seem to be a little unusual. But he himself is very bored! I really don't care about the two of them.

Is it just a fight? How many times is this the first time?

Just the other day, they seemed to be back together... for no reason other than the fact that at night when Harry woke up to drink water, he could hear Ron snoring again.

Instead of disturbing Ron's sleep, Harry turned and left the dormitory, heading out into the common room.

A new day has begun, and he has to prepare for the third event of the top three.

The troubles in his heart can only be buried deep in his heart. He has to act as relaxed as usual, and can't let Ron and Hermione worry about him instead...

Ron's exams would end on the day of the third project, and he should have been busy studying, but he was very keen to help Harry and Hermione prepare - although sometimes it was not helpful.

"Don't worry," Ron said nonchalantly when Harry pointed out the review problems and suggested that he and Hermione could practice on their own, "at least I can get a high in Defense Against the Dark Arts." Point...even Mad-Eye Moody wouldn't teach so many spells in class!"

"And..." Ron said, and suddenly tried the Obstacle Charm on a wasp that was buzzing into the room, causing it to stop in mid-air, and then he said excitedly, "...this will be very important to me in the future. Aurors are good training."

"You want to be an Auror?" Harry asked in surprise.

Ron tilted his head in embarrassment and said, "Just talking...isn't it cool?"

As time passed day by day, June had already entered without knowing it, and the atmosphere in the castle became tense and excited again.

Everyone is looking forward to the third race which will be held a week before the holiday.

Harry and Hermione practiced spells whenever they had time, and it could be seen that both of them worked very hard, because they clearly felt their own lack of strength.

Judging from the first two projects, this third project is definitely a journey full of hardships and dangers.

Professor McGonagall kept catching Harry, Hermione, and Ron practicing around the school, so she allowed them to use the Transfiguration classroom at lunchtime.

At the same time, the world outside the school is also undergoing earth-shaking changes, and those messy information have spread to the ears of the students through various channels.

As Maca said, there were indeed a lot of frequent and trivial actions on Voldemort's side, ranging from roadside theft to residential explosions, all kinds of cases were rapidly consuming the security forces of the Ministry of Magic.

But what is hidden in it is the fierce collisions between the new Order of the Phoenix and the old Death Eaters.

It is not convenient for Maca to make a direct shot at the moment. However, the potions he provided from time to time made him an excellent logistician appreciated by all members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius, who was now sending Harry owls every day, seemed, like Ron, to be intent on getting Harry through that third project before thinking about anything else.

He reminded Harry in every letter that it was not your responsibility, nor your power to influence, outside of Hogwarts.

Early this morning, while Harry was reading Sirius' letter again, an owl brought Hermione the morning's Daily Prophet as usual.

She opened the newspaper, glanced at the front page habitually, and immediately sprayed all the pumpkin juice on the newspaper.