0633 The Crouch Family

After uncovering the truth behind the infamous "Dark Mark Incident" that on night of the Quidditch finals, Dumbledore and Bryan fell into an uncomfortable period of heavy silence.

The human heart is truly a strange and enigmatic thing; even the most skilled Legilimens can never really see through the complex web of a person's innermost thoughts and desires hidden deep within his heart.

The mind seemed to be a puzzle wrapped in a riddle.

Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Sr. had always been known throughout the British wizarding world for his notoriously tough stance on crime and the Dark Arts.

During the brutal war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his fanatical followers, Crouch was the first to controversially yet forcefully propose fighting fire with fire against the murderous Death Eaters. He advocated granting the brave but harassed Aurors expanded rights to use lethal, fatal force and kill without prior Ministerial approval under certain extreme circumstances in the fights.

It was a desperate measure for a desperate time.

Crouch's desire for greater power was strong, and he never bothered to conceal or cloak his ambitions to one day ascend to the top and become the Minister of Magic himself. Many believed that if it weren't for that scandal that erupted around him back then, the politically opportunistic Cornelius Fudge would never have had a clear path to seize the Minister position for himself. 

But for such a cold-blooded, ruthlessly calculating power-seeker like Crouch to suddenly risk everything, even his own freedom and reputation, to save his convicted Death Eater son? It seemed inconceivable to those who thought they knew the man.

With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore activated his shimmering Pensieve and showed Bryan the memory of when young Barty Crouch Jr.'s identity as a Death Eater was exposed in front of the entire Wizengamot.

The subsequent trial was a sensation throughout wizarding Britain. The depth of Senior Barty's deep-seated, seemingly genuine hatred and utter indifference of his unrepentant Death Eater son on display in the courtroom was seared into public memory.

But who could have ever imagined that Crouch Sr. would dare to do such an unthinkable, daring thing in secret— even risking the eternal condemnation and wrath of the entire wizarding world if his act was ever discovered?

"How do you think Barty Crouch Sr. managed to rescue young Barty Crouch from Azkaban, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked slowly as he gazed up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling above, pondering the question for a long time.

This was indeed a good question!

"It's hard to say with any certainty, Headmaster—" Bryan replied pensively, rubbing his haggard face with his palms, looking quite weary. He continued:

"From the moment Barty Crouch Jr.'s true identity as a Death Eater was publicly exposed, to when the Wizengamot finally completed his trial, I don't believe Barty Crouch Sr. would have had any real chance to secretly act to save him. Although I wasn't there to personally witness it, I imagine there must have been countless watchful eyes observing and scrutinizing Barty Crouch Sr.'s every move during that time. The Ministry would never let him out of their sight. He simply had no opportunity to swap his son out of their custody during the proceedings.

Also let's not forget that Barty personally presided over his own son's trial. He himself announced the Wizengamot's unanimous judgment that young Barty Crouch was to be imprisoned in the depths of Azkaban for the rest of his life.

According to official Wizengamot procedure, after the trial concludes, the sentenced is handed over into the custody of a hand-picked escort of the Ministry's best Aurors. It is they who take the prisoner and transport them via top-secret Portkey through the Department of Mysteries, directly to Azkaban to begin their life sentence.

Unless Barty somehow managed to sway those Aurors to go along with his scheme, which I find highly doubtful, I believe the only possible opportunity to make the switch would be to secretly act after young Barty Crouch was officially handled and imprisoned within Azkaban."

Dumbledore listened intently in silence for a moment, then nodded slowly in agreement. His face was etched with deep lines of contemplation.

"I agree with your thoughtful view and reasoning, Bryan," he finally said, stroking his long, silver beard. "Barty probably took advantage of his own personal visitation rights at Azkaban to gain access to his son. After all, no one would think to stop a totally disgraced Ministry official who had lost any eligibility to further vie for the position of Minister of Magic from going to visit the fallen child he had once taken such pride in before everything went wrong..."

Unfortunately, such conjectures and speculations could only expose a hint of the actual truth buried at the heart of this mystery. Both Dumbledore and Bryan were experienced enough to know that interrogating Barty, his son, or perhaps the Crouch family's loyal house-elf were the only real paths that could possibly reveal the specifics details of what truly happened.

Everything else was just speculation and grasping at shadows.

And although the two continued to dwell and ponder over such matters, they both knew it wasn't really meaningful or worthwhile at this juncture. The cold reality of the current situation was— young Barty Crouch did indeed still seem to be very much alive, while Barty Crouch Sr. himself had most likely already fallen into Voldemort's hands.

Dumbledore and Bryan were deliberately, delicately avoiding any frank discussion of what they believed to be Barty Crouch Sr.'s inevitable current circumstances and grim fate. Both were all too clearly aware that Crouch Sr.'s precious few chances of emerging from the darkness with his life were very slim at best.

It wasn't that they believed he must definitely already be dead by now, but based on Bryan and Dumbledore's speculations, Voldemort would probably have Barty Crouch Sr. appear at his resurrection ceremony, then publicly slaughter this Ministry official who once carried out a policy of killing Death Eaters, using him as a sacrifice to re-establish his own prestige.

However, if possible, Bryan still hoped to figure out how Barty Crouch Sr. deceived the Dementors. Creatures like Dementors probably wouldn't negotiate any terms with Barty Crouch Sr.

"Headmaster, about that house-elf, Winky—" Bryan began, his brows furrowed in recollection.

Previously, when he visited Barty Crouch Sr.'s home, Bryan had proposed returning Winky to the Crouch family. But in fact, this was actually Bryan's subtle way to test and confirm his suspicions that the person appearing before him in the appearance of the real Barty Crouch Sr. was actually an imposter.

After all, if it were truly the real Barty Crouch Sr., then he would definitely never allow the house-elf he had so coldly and publicly driven away to suddenly return. However, even if Bryan had been facing a fake Barty Crouch Sr., he most likely also wouldn't allow a lowly house-elf who closely knew the details of his elaborately disguised false identity to return to his side and risk exposure. That would just be asking for trouble.

At the time, Bryan had only made the suggestion in order to try to provoke the suspected imposter into discussing more topics, thereby revealing more clues in the seemingly irrelevant details that could verify Bryan's speculations. But much to his surprise, the imposter's emotions had immediately fluctuated upon hearing him mention that house-elf, and he had ultimately accepted Bryan's proposal after a few moments of hesitation and darting eyes. 

That one decision had immediately made one thing clear to Bryan - this mysterious impersonator definitely had a deep personal connection to the Crouch family and their secrets...

However, this revelation now put Bryan himself into a bit of a tricky dilemma.

"I understand your concerns and hesitation, Bryan," Dumbledore said calmly, "But since you've already given your word and made this promise, I believe we must let this poor pitiful house-elf return to the Crouch family as agreed. From what you've said, I think this aligns with its sincere wishes as well—"

Dumbledore paused, looking out the darkened glass window at the starry night sky above the castle walls before continuing:

"Based on my long experience and understanding of Tom, he would not pay any attention at all to a miserable creature such as a house-elf. And during the fourteen years young Barty Crouch was secretly imprisoned, it was probably this house-elf who was taking care for him. He also probably has deep feelings for it. Perhaps, if fate is kind, the one who will ultimately save this miserable father and son in the end - Barty Crouch Sr. and young Barty Crouch Jr. - will be none other than this faithful, devoted house-elf..."

Bryan considered this for a moment, then raised his eyebrows in understanding and nodded slowly.

"Winky—" Bryan suddenly called out in a strong yet slightly mellow voice.

Immediately following his command, the familiar house-elf appeared before the two with a sharp cracking sound, its large eyes were wide and bulging in its gaunt face as it shifted from foot to foot in agitation.

However, compared to when he had last seen it two weeks ago, this particular house-elf who had always been so unwavering and fiercely loyal to the Crouch family now somehow looked even more disheveled and haggard than before, as if it had aged a century in a fortnight.

The formerly neat and pressed short shirt and skirt it wore were now heavily wrinkled and covered in dark soup stains and layers of ashy dirt. The edges of its tea towel garment were even ragged and scorched, making Winky look like some sort of wild scavenger living rough life in a garbage heap.

What was simultaneously most infuriating and disgustingly laughable was that at some point during its intense depression, Winky had actually developed a very bad new habit most inappropriate for a house-elf.

It actually clutched a nearly empty green bottle of cheap butterbeer in its hand, and the pungent stench of the alcohol was wafting off it. Just from the distraught house-elf's blank, bloodshot eyes and drunken swaying, it was obviously clear to the stunned Bryan that this was not the first bottle of butterbeer it had downed this night.

It took a dozen or so long seconds for intoxicated Winky to finally realize exactly where it had clumsily Apparated itself to in its drunken blankness. The house-elf's tennis ball sized bloodshot eyes nearly bulged out of its skull even further when it finally realized that it now swayed unsteadily before the hawk-like gazes of the two highest ranking and most powerful decision makers at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And here Winky was, standing before them while still grasping a tall bottle of liquor in its dirty, shaking hands like a common gutter alcoholic!

Winky subconsciously tried to drag itself up to its unsteady feet in order to find a place to hide the bottle from view. But in front of two of the most powerful wizards of the age, where oh where could this already half-drunk house-elf possibly hope to conceal it in time?

It was futile. Moreover, all the butterbeer Winky had already rashly consumed was making the room spin and its knees buckle, it was completely unable to stand firmly or balance for more than a moment.

And so, few seconds after Winky struggled drunkenly to its feet, it abruptly crashed to the floor again with a muffled thud. The half-empty butterbeer bottle slipped from its grasp, rolling away across the stone floor as the remaining trickle of liquor inside spilled out onto the office carpet, forming a dark, wet stain that spread across the carpet's fabric.

"Professor Dumbledore, Watson, Sir, Winky...Winky..."

Winky was terrified, its dirty face was filled with dread. No matter how much it missed Mr. Crouch, it belonged to Hogwarts now. But here it was, dead drunk when summoned by its master. This was completely at odds with the house-elf image in its heart!

"Winky— Winky finished work—" Winky blinked hard, but fearful tears still fell from the corners of its eyes with their many brown lumps.

"Winky can clean it up, Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Watson. Please don't— don't make Winky—"

For a house-elf, being dismissed just once by its master was shameful and humiliating enough. But to be dismissed by two masters in a row? it would utterly destroy Winky's reputation - such an elf would be seen by wizarding society as damaged goods, a house-elf with serious deficiencies or something wrong deep within it. After that, no self-respecting witch or wizard would ever consent to stoop so low as to willingly use it ever again.

Winky would be forever untouchable, an outcast among its own kind!

And what meaning or purpose was there for a young, healthy house-elf to even continue its existence if it wasn't faithfully working under the oppression of a wizarding family anyway?

What place was there in the wizarding world for such a misfit then?

None.

Fear made Winky's lips turn cyan as its whole body trembled nonstop. To beg forgiveness, its subconscious reaction was to go wipe up the liquor stain on the carpet! 

"Don't bother with that, Winky—"

Bryan left his seat and pulled Winky, who was wiping the stain while lying on the ground, to its feet. He then crouched down, looking Winky straight in the eyes. The seemingly flowing violet in his eyes made the house-elf go blank for a moment, even forgetting its dread of being kicked out again.

"I have some good news for you, Winky," Bryan said with a smile. "You can go home—"

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