Harry Potter’s Natural Villain

Krum opened his eyes, his face blank. As soon as he saw Dumbledore he struggled to get up

"He hit me!" Krum murmured, covering his head with his hands. "That old lunatic hit me! I was looking where Potter was going when he hit me from behind!"

"You lie still for a while," Dumbledore said kindly, without taking Krum's words.

"What happened?" Professor McGonagall hurried to the scene wearing her tall pointed hat and an old, dull gray lady's robe, looking at Krum lying on the ground, and then frowned and asked.

"Minerva, you go to Madam Pomfrey now and ask her to make some potions to relieve the stun effect of the stun spell, then go to Karkaroff and explain the situation to him, his students may have been attacked, I still need to check the clues here, I can't get out." Dumbledore said seriously.

"Okay." Professor McGonagall nodded, did not ask more, and left quickly, she also immediately realized the seriousness of the situation.

Karkaroff followed hurriedly, in his smooth silver-white fur robe, pale and anxious.

"What's going on?" he exclaimed when he saw Krum lying on the ground with Dumbledore and Harry beside him, "what's the matter?"

"I was beaten!" Krum said, sitting up slowly, rubbing his head with his hands. "I heard the man was called Crouch—that's the..."

"Crouch hit you? Crouch hit you? Triwizard referee hit you?"

"Igor—" Dumbledore wanted to speak, but Karkaroff straightened up, tugging at the fur robes wrapped around him, his face ashen.

"Mrs. Maxime! Are you here too?" Karkaroff's voice became high, and it seemed very deliberate, as if her presence made him appear more confident.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I think it's not just Mr. Karkaroff, I also need a reasonable explanation." Madame Maxime shook the opal jewelry on her wrist and said aggressively.

Things seemed to spread faster than expected, and soon Beauxbatons' warrior Fleur Delacour arrived, even though she wasn't with her headmaster at the time.

As for Malfoy, he "doesn't know" where he got the news and walked over slowly.

Dumbledore glanced in his direction seemingly unintentionally,

Then he quickly corrected his eyes and looked at the other two principals.

"Look, all the warriors are here now. Of course, only in this way we outsiders are "qualified" to sing a diagonal show with you, right?" Karkaroff said strangely.

"Calm down," Dumbledore said calmly.

"How do you want me to calm down!" Karkaroff said frantically. Few people noticed the trace of anxiety and fear in his tone. He subconsciously grabbed one of his arms, as if something was abnormal.

"I think Mr. Potter probably didn't tell the truth, and we may have to rely on something else to find out the truth." Snape suddenly appeared gloomily in Dumbledore's room with his shiny black hair on. Behind him, it was like a black cloud, and his deep eyes were flickering with malicious light, staring at Harry so tightly that he couldn't help but get goosebumps all over his body.

Harry immediately thought of the "Veritaserum" that Snape had threatened him with in class

"Severus." Dumbledore coughed heavily, his blue eyes flashed, and Snape shut up knowingly.

Snape's resignation seemed to be more effective than Dumbledore's own dissuasion. Seeing Snape stop, Karkaroff actually restrained his bad temper for the first time.

Everyone entangled here for a long time, maybe knowing that it was useless to stop here, and finally left, but at the same time as leaving, Karkaroff kept clamoring that Dumbledore must give him an explanation.

"Thank you for your hard work, Alastor." When Moody passed by Dumbledore, Dumbledore said in a very soft voice, as if talking to himself.

"It's a bit, but it's totally acceptable." Moody replied, the magic eye beating happily, and he grinned, looking very satisfied.

Time goes back to when last vacation was just beginning.

"Albus, are there any new developments, or... what else do you want me to do?" Moody asked directly as he pushed open the door of the principal's office.

Perched on a golden perch by the door was Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix Fox, the size of a swan, with brilliant red and gold plumage. it shakes its long tail feathers

"Alastor, sit." Dumbledore pulled out a chair behind him and moved it to Moody's.

It was a hot summer afternoon, and the heat outside was tiring. Even Moody, who had just come in through the door, still had a few drops of sweat on his forehead, and his trouser legs were covered in dust, making him look dusty.

Moody threw his cane by the foot of the stool, made a rolling noise, and slumped into the chair.

The terrifying magic eye looked at Dumbledore indifferently, and Dumbledore was accustomed to it. He stretched out his hand and lifted a pot of tea on the table at some point in time, poured a cup, and handed it to him. Moody.

"Thank you." Moody said, but the old man didn't seem to be interested in tea tasting, but only used him as a means of quenching his thirst. He poured the hot tea into his Adam's apple and rolled it a few times before drinking it. .

"Okay, can you tell me what's going on now? Dumbledore? If the communication between us is not very important, you usually use the Patronus to notify me, right?"

Moody put the teacup back in its place.

"That being the case. The things that require you to interview me in person must be quite important."

Dumbledore pondered, his long silver-white beard drooping down in front of the table, and he himself seemed to be in a hesitation, and put his fingertips together on the table.

"This is not your style, Albus, I think I have enough capital to gain your trust, and enough ability to complete the task you gave me."

"I still trust you more than the Ministry of Magic, and I'm no longer affiliated with that shitty bureaucratic place, am I?"

Moody chattered.

"If you accept my commission, you may die." Dumbledore said blankly.

"Oh?" Moody's shocked expression lasted for a moment, and then a very wonderful expression appeared on his wrinkled face, as if the magic eye was about to pop out of his socket.

He suddenly started covering his stomach and laughed wildly, showing a row of crooked teeth, as if he had heard some ridiculous joke. Put one hand on the table and try to support yourself from falling off the chair.

After maintaining this state for a while, Moody raised his head and put on a serious expression and said:

"Albus, do you think I am someone who is afraid of death? Your hesitation is just because of this?"

"I never doubted your courage." Dumbledore stood up from his chair, put his hands behind him, turned his back to Moody, and stared blankly at the photo in front of him. Principal's photo. They were all asleep, their breasts heaving gently

"No one can easily decide a person's life or death, not even himself." Dumbledore sighed slowly.

"I know, you know a lot of things I don't know, Albus, um... For example, let go of that little mouse on purpose, you have your own considerations, I will occasionally guess your thoughts, but I don't will question your motives."

"To die on the battlefield is the highest honor of an Auror," Moody said.

"If the accident happens according to my plan, you may die in a very humiliating way." Dumbledore took a deep breath.

"A humiliation is a humiliation, as long as it is useful, I don't feel it after death anyway, do I?" Moody started laughing again.

"Albus, I hope you can trust me as much as I trust you." Moody's laughter gradually stopped, and the beating magic eye returned to its calmness when it was silent.

Dumbledore turned around silently and walked to the wall behind the table. A worn, patched sorting hat was placed on the shelf. In the lower right corner of the shelf, there was a glass box, which was empty. Nothing was placed, but it reflected the brilliance of silver. On the opposite side of the glass box was an inconspicuous black cabinet, the door of which was hidden, and the light was revealed from it.

Dumbledore bent down, opened the cabinet, and took an item from it and put it on the table. .

This is a shallow stone basin, the mouth of the basin has strange-shaped carvings, and the edge of the basin is carved with runes and symbols, which is very mysterious. It is constantly flowing, rippling like the surface of water in the breeze, and spreading and swirling gracefully like clouds. It's like light in liquid form - and like wind in solid form.

Moody picked up his cane, stomped his wooden legs, dragged his body to Dumbledore's side, and looked at the object.

"I can't see through this thing." After taking a closer look, Moody shook his head helplessly.

His magic eye seemed to be ineffective in front of this thing, and the volatile silver substance made him dizzy. He tried his best to capture something deeper, but found that it was futile.

"This silvery substance is thought, it is memory, Alastor," explained Dumbledore, then he took out his wand and stirred it in the basin, and the surface of the silvery object spun faster. Kind of like an upward spiral.

"Bury your head in there, Alastor," Dumbledore said, and Moody stuck his head in, the glassy substance resting on the tip of his nose.

Moody stretched his head again, and felt a whirlwind, falling in a icy dark substance, as if being sucked into a black vortex—

After a while, Moody's head slowly rose from between them.

There was no joy or anger on his face, and he asked, "Is this your memory? Albus?"

He murmured to himself: "I still have a bit of an impression of this trial. The father is a dignified and impartial Ministry of Magic official, but the son has taken refuge with the notorious mysterious man. It's ironic to hear that his son died in Azkaban? Then his wife seems to have passed away from too much grief, right?"

"It's really pitiful." Moody shook his head regretfully. "That Crouch should be a boss who likes me."

"Show me what this means, Albus?"

"What would you think if I said little Crouch wasn't dead?"

Whether it was the magic eye or the ordinary eyeball, it immediately enlarged, and the brows immediately wrinkled.

Dumbledore then said: "Everything you have received just now is a memory in my mind. This is called a Pensieve. Sometimes I feel that there are too many thoughts and memories in my mind, and the extra thoughts will be thrown away. Suck it out of your head, pour it into this basin, and take a good look at it when you have time."

"Interesting thing, the effect of getting the truth feels more effective than Veritaserum. As for Legilimency, only the caster can know. If this song can be promoted during the wizard trial, it must be very good, and the jury will also You can use what they see as a yardstick for judgment." Professionalism made Moody instantly make some "magic" analysis of the pot in front of him.

"A thought must be drawn voluntarily." Dumbledore's words dispelled Moody's thoughts.

He can't expect criminals to repent from the bottom of their hearts, can they?

Dumbledore drew his wand from under his robe and slid the tip into his silver hair, near his temple. When he pulled out his wand, there seemed to be some hair sticking to the tip of the wand, but it was actually a small strand of the same silvery white substance as in the basin. Dumbledore added this new idea to the basin.

"This is the process of adding memories, Alastor."

"I'm not interested in these anymore, let's get down to business, Albus, what do you want me to do? Arrest the little Crouch who is not dead? Since he is not dead, he will definitely choose not to be in Azka. Ban, I guess he found some other way to escape." Moody asked anxiously, his patience was running out.

But impatiently, he had no doubts about Dumbledore's words.

"He escaped." Dumbledore nodded.

"Where is he? Any clues?" Moody demanded.

"You just have to wait at home." Dumbledore's eyes flashed.

"Will he throw himself into the net? Turn himself in?" Moody asked in disbelief.

"Of course not? I heard from some sources that he might attack you and then use the Imperius Curse to make you reveal a lot."

"Oh, I don't believe that a little boy can beat me." Moody said disdainfully, in his opinion, this is not a threat.

"If it's a sneak attack, it's not impossible, and he may have helpers."

"That's not the case now, I'm already highly alert, and I'll be extra careful all the time," Moody said.

"But what I want you to do is not to arrest him, but..." Dumbledore extended the topic, and every time he said a word, Moody's expression became heavier. The swirling magic eyes fell silent and retracted into their sockets.

Moody pondered.

"If you're not Dumbledore, I really doubt you're a lunatic."

"But, you shouldn't be a fake now." Moody's index finger rubbed between his brows, then slid down to the corner of his magic eye and kept massaging.

"What am I going to do?" Moody asked in a hoarse voice.

Dumbledore's azure blue eyes floated to the Pensieve in front of him at this moment, constantly looking at it.

"First of all, our conversation today, as well as the memory of some previous events, maybe you have to deposit with me for a while, Alastor, this can avoid unnecessary information from the Imperius Curse."

"Then, I'm going to hypnotize you. The hypnotized person will believe that some falsehoods are true. Before that, we only need to deceive ourselves first, and then we can deceive the enemy."

"I studied some Muggle hypnotism and verified the effect. It was very good. When I faced myself in the mirror, I could not perceive my true thoughts, because I persuaded "myself". At that time, I was Indeed it does."

"But there are still some uncontrollable risk factors." Dumbledore fell into complete silence after saying this.

Obviously, he wants to leave the decision to Moody's.

"What's the hesitation about that?" Moody laughed, then immediately raised his wand, pointing at his bulging temple, and then a long silvery memory came from the tip of the wand. It stretched longer and longer, and at last it broke, and a silver light shone on the tip of the staff.

"Is this the first step?" the man said without hesitation.