Hogwarts on the Tip of the Tongue

　　 Little Hangleton Village, the fire that burned all night gradually disappeared in the morning fog.

　　 Police Officer Frey pushed open the door of Riddle's House and led a group of police and sheriffs inside.

　　 Behind the iron gate, the once magnificent old mansion is now only a few pieces of burnt black ruined walls.

There seems to have been an explosion here. Frey noticed that the broken stones and the remains of the fireplace were scattered away from the doorway. It looked like it had been hit by gunfire, but what was even more strange was that there was an unpleasant burnt smell all around. Besides, there is no smell of gunpowder and gasoline.

　　 "Go and look inside—"

　　 Frey gestured to the players behind him, turned his head to look at the sheriff not far away.

　　 "You said earlier that you heard a loud noise inside last night, and then you saw the fire rising from Riddle's House, right?"

"Yes," the sheriff nodded. "About two or three in the morning, Old Frank came over and patted the door, saying that he saw a group of extremely dangerous people breaking into Riddle's House, just when I asked him for details. , There was a loud noise from the side of the mountain—as if something exploded, and more than once—then Riddell’s House caught fire. I have never seen such a raging fire, and it was devoured in less than two or three seconds. The whole house."

　　 "No one came out from inside? Is there anyone else to see? This is the only way down the mountain, right?"

　　 Officer Frey tapped the pen on the sketchbook, and was about to continue digging for some clues, suddenly his eyes stopped not far away.

A man wrapped in a black trench coat was walking towards them along the only mountain road, without even asking the sheriff, the man’s high-collar trench coat alone could tell that he was incompatible with little Hungerton, and With Frey's instinct, the guy was clearly aimed at them.

　　 "MI6, Kingsley Shaker, we will take over this case from now on."

　　 The man walked up to Frey and the others, took out a certificate from his arms, showed it, and said cleanly.

"Regarding my identity, you can ask your boss to call our department and turn to 62442 for inquiries-I hope you can provide a record of the incident, dictate these in writing, and preferably assist in the collection of important personal and physical evidence... …In addition, since this incident involves the threat of a national-level terrorist attack, I hope that you can cooperate with your work before the end of our operation and do not promote it in the surroundings for the time being..."

　　 The member of MI6 who claims to be Kingsley has a deep and slow voice, which can calm people down.

　　 Although Frey has never been in contact with MI6 before, he has long heard of their names.

　　 "I see, I'll make a call first--"

　　 Frey frowned heavily and glanced over Kingsley Shaker's dark, serious face.

As a veteran policeman who has been working for decades, although Frey has some big cases that he has unfortunately flew away, he is more aware that some things are not at his level. Now they are handed over cleanly, and they are better than someday later. It is better to break into a hornet's nest and hand over in the form of relics.

　　 On the other side, while Frey was calling to check, Kingsley turned and walked to the sheriff and old Frank.

　　 The same set of identity introductions and a very standardized case inquiry process.

　　 The only difference is that when he heard the name of the "housekeeper", a flash of shock flashed across his dark and steady face.

"Barty Crouch? I know—" Kingsley groaned for a few seconds. "We have to leave for London immediately. Things are more serious than we thought. This...well, Mr. Frank, very Sorry, you may have been involved in an extremely complex and dangerous incident."

　　 "I cannot answer your questions for the time being, but I can tell you with confidence that you can get all the answers in London."

　　 "At that time, you only need to describe everything you see and hear as before..."

　　 Kingsley paused, then turned to look at the middle-aged police officer who walked over to the right and put down the phone.

　　 "Hello, do you have any questions?"

　　 "From the current situation, my answer is best to be ‘no’, right?"

　　 Frey shrugged and put away the phone in his hand, "I don't want to cause trouble, leave it to you, Mr. MI6--"

　　 "Thank you for your understanding. Just fill in the police record. I am not a 007, just like you, I am a hapless guy who wants to drink coffee."

　　 Kingsley smiled and nodded to the middle-aged police officer, and said naturally, his tight nerves relaxed.

　　 Obviously, even if the Ministry of Magic suffered a surprise attack, some of the previous cooperation with the Muggle government was still unaffected.

Or to be more precise, compared to the Ministry of Magic, the Muggle government is too reliable in this regard-if there is no such relationship, it would be difficult for him to follow the "original plan" to have important witnesses appear at the right time The right place, and lead to the right reasoning.

　　…………

　　 Old Frank thought he had seen enough strange things.

　　 However, he is quite sure that everything he is going through is definitely the most bizarre experience in this life.

　　 The man from MI6 wandered around the village for a while, and got in the black car parked at the entrance of the village with him.

　　 In the back seat of the car sat an old man with a very long beard. The old man told him a strange story about magic.

Old Frank would naturally not believe these children’s bedtime stories, but when he took advantage of these people to pull the car door and get out, he found that the outside was no longer the dirt road in Little Hangerton Village-he came to a A prosperous modern city with tall buildings and asphalted roads everywhere.

　　 "Here we are, Mr. Frank. Welcome to London."

　　 The old man walked out of the open car door and reached out his hand to help Old Frank who had fallen on the side of the road.

"I'm very sorry, these things are really difficult to accept. But the time is urgent, we have to adopt the fastest way. If you have any doubts and concerns, we can accompany you to the Political Security Office of the City of London first. But after that , We'd better hurry to the Ministry of Magic. A terrible thing happened last night. Everything you witnessed and heard can be said to be the most important evidence to help us clear the fog."

　　 "So...Is this really magic?"

　　 Old Frank murmured, and touched the cold stainless steel street light pole next to him.

　　 The sky is still slightly bright not far away, there are not many people on the street, and most of the shops have not yet opened.

　　 "Well, whether you are the Ministry of Magic or MI6... Anyway, you can solve the problem, right?"

　　 Obviously, nothing is more "magical" than the fact that it spans more than half of Britain in ten minutes.

　　 Even if the old Frank still has a mess in his mind at this time, but deep in his heart, he has to start to accept a fact:

　　 He may have actually met a wizard who knows magic, and there is a magical world besides the ordinary world.

　　The most important thing is that these people are willing to believe what he said. This alone is enough to make Old Frank make up his mind.

　　…………

　　 British Ministry of Magic, temporary interrogation room.

　　 Old Frank tried to suppress his beating heart and walked into the room.

　　 The Ministry of Magic had obviously received news in advance, and the round room was not spacious enough to be filled with people.

　　 There is a single high-back chair in the middle of the room. Old Frank knew that it was reserved for him without asking—I have to say, it made him a little uncomfortable. But he relaxed quickly, because the old wizard with a long beard also sat down beside him.

　　 "Relax, Mr. Frank, we didn't mean to interrogate you."

　　 The old wizard drew out a small wooden stick (Frank just learned that the wizards called it a magic wand) and waved it, creating a chair out of thin air.

　　Meanwhile, Kingsley walked up to Cornelius Fudge, whispered something in his ear.

　　 "This is not a joke--"

　　 Cornelius Fudge's face changed suddenly, and he said in a low voice.

　　 "This is a very serious, very serious accusation, you should know what it means..."

"Yes, because of this, I have to tell you in advance—" Kingsley Shackleh said, his eyes swept in this temporarily cleaned room, as if searching for someone, "So , Mr. Minister, do you want to call that gentleman together?"

　　 "...No, don't act rashly for now."

　　 Cornelius Fudge was silent for a moment, and tapped his finger on the armrest.

　　 "Kingsley, go to Mr. Scrimgeour. As for that person, first find a way to watch him."

　　 "Okay, Mr. Minister." Kingsley nodded and walked out of the room with a serious expression.

　　…………

　　 A moment later, Rufus Scrimgeour opened the door and walked in.

　　 Mad Eye Moody followed closely, and both of them looked a little ugly.

　　 "Very good," Cornelius Fudge said, "Now everyone is here, let's start. Can you, sir?"

　　 "No problem, Mr. Minister——"

　　 Dumbledore said gently, his slender fingers crossed, and his blue eyes looked at the lame old man beside him.

"But I hope that after the questioning is over, the Ministry of Magic can send one or two Aurors to temporarily protect Mr. Frank-his unfortunate life in the second half of his life was brought about by magic. I hope that we can be somewhat flexible in our work methods, you Know what I mean, about the Forgotten Curse..."

　　 "Thank you for the reminder, when everything is over, I know how to arrange—"

　　 Cornelius Fudge said irritably, and he looked at Old Frank a few times.

"So……"

　　 "Cough, cough—sorry, I have a suggestion."

　　 At this moment, Mad-Eye Moody interrupted Fudge abruptly.

　　 His blue magic eye was still staring at Old Frank, but his normal eye turned to Connelly, who was sitting not far away.

"We don't have much time to identify lies. If possible, I will apply for direct use of Veritaserum-this Mr. Frank obviously does not have the ability to deceive potions. Compared to repeated questioning and confrontation, I think this may be a more efficient , Credible inquiry method."

　　 "Veritaserum?" Old Frank frowned and looked at Dumbledore next to him probingly.

　　 "A magic potion whose effect is to not lie for a period of time after taking it."

Dumbledore explained softly, he patted the old man on the shoulder, "Don't worry, no one can force you to drink any potion if you don't want to." Dumbledore said as he shook his head at Moody. , "Alastor, this is not an interrogation, I think..."

　　 "Are there any side effects?" Old Frank suddenly asked.

　　 "No, but—"

　　 "Well, so, as long as I drink that "Veritaserum", they will 100% believe in my answer?"

　　 "In theory, this is the case, because you have no magical powers, and it is impossible to interfere with the effects of Veritaserum."

"alright, I got it--"

　　Old Frank looked around at the wizards around him, his brows twitched.

　　 "I can take your Veritaserum, if you think it's worthy of trust..."

　　 He almost understood the current situation, and the few sitting at the other end of the room were obviously big figures in the magic government.

　　 Although I don’t know how wizards usually think of ordinary people like him, it’s certainly not easier to persuade than the police — he is tired of repeating the story over and over and then being questioned.

　　 "Uh, of course, of course... this is naturally best."

　　 Cornelius Fudge was stunned for two seconds, then nodded quickly.

　　If it's just Voldemort's true identity, or even his conspiracy, family background, or who he killed decades ago...

These contents have no special significance for the Ministry of Magic. At best, it is a proof of Voldemort's comeback and that the attack tonight was indeed launched by the Dark Lord and his men-but if there are other things involved, then It's different.

　　For example...

　　 Cornelius Fudge watched Old Frank drink Veritaserum, and first asked a few questions about the verification of his name and address.

　　 It is obvious that the old Muggle Frank has no resistance in front of the magic potion.

　　 However, Connelly Fudge was not curious about how many women this old guy had.

　　 "Then, Mr. Frank..."

　　 He swallowed nervously and asked softly.

"You just said that a few months ago, a man who called himself the butler of'Tom Riddle' came to the town and bought the Riddle House in Little Hangerton Village for his'master.' Do you remember him? Is his name, and what his looks? And everything you heard last night..."

"certainly--"

　　 Old Frank replied confidently.

　　 "Barty Crouch, that's what the sheriff said before anyway."

　　 "As for his specific appearance, and everything I heard last night..."

　　 With the old man's calm tone without much ups and downs, the faces of all the wizards present suddenly changed.

　　…………

　　 At the same time ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ The Crouch family mansion hundreds of miles away.

　　 The dense mist enveloped the house silently, and it penetrated little by little along the door and window cracks.

　　 A few minutes later, there was a clicking sound in the hall, as if something was rolling from the table to the floor.

　　 "The target is confirmed to be in a coma, and the second group acts."

　　 Several people in black glanced at each other, took out their wands and gently opened the locked door.

　　 On the floor of the living room, a small body lay unconscious.

The man in black graciously stepped over the small body, raised his wand and patiently fumbled and searched in the surrounding air, and finally stopped in front of a sofa at the back of the living room, and a layer of transparent invisibility cloak was gently lifted by them. , Under the invisibility cloak, was a man who had fallen into a coma.

　　 If Old Frank were here, he would be horrified to find that this man was exactly the same as he was describing.

　　 "Hey, it's so pathetic..."

The man in black headed by 　　 carefully compared the man's appearance and waved his hand.

"take away."

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Great!

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