“…… I thought you were a wizard who really understood the magic of the dark arts...... I thought you were the closest powerful follower to your master...... But now I understand that you're just another hypocritical fool from Dumbledore! ”

"I'm not afraid of your soul magic! Come on! If you can't kill me today, I'll show you what true black magic is in the future! ”

Barty Crouch Jr.'s mind has been completely eroded by the forces of darkness, and it is not only Voldemort's evil thoughts that affect him and corrupt him, but also the negative inducements brought to him by various dark magic.

Looking at Barty Crouch Jr., who was in a desperate situation and completely insane, Maca shook her head slightly.

In fact, Maca's words are already obvious.

He didn't want Little Barty's life at all, because it didn't have much value to him now, but who knows, Little Barty's stubborn temper came up, and he didn't even want to compromise and survive.

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

Before Marka could finish speaking, she saw little Barty suddenly burst out, holding a strange-shaped dagger in his hand and stabbing at him.

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

Looking at the posture, it seemed that he was going to fight back before he died, forcing Maca to reflexively recite the incantation without even saying the second half of a sentence.

“…… Avada suo. ”

The seeping green light lit up silently in the bushes of the Forbidden Forest, then quietly extinguished, and little Barty craned his neck and lay limply on the ground, unable to breathe.

But Maca found that his left hand was awkwardly resting on his neck, for some reason.

Maca seemed to ponder for a moment, then tugged at Barty Jr.'s left hand. Immediately afterwards, a brass key tied with a black rope that had been hanging around his neck was pulled out of the collar by Maca.

Old Barty stood beside the trunk of the tree, staring at the key, panting vigorously. His feet felt like they were nailed to the ground, and he couldn't move even half a step.

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

Then, with a tidal wave of suction coming from behind, as soon as he turned around, he felt the down-to-earth touch again.

The stone basin still glistened in the cabinet in front of him, and Maca was still standing beside him, a hand still on his shoulder, saving him from the possibility of falling due to his unsteady center of gravity.

“…… Mr. Crouch...... Mr. Crouch? ”

Old Barty, who was still immersed in that last moment, stood in front of the stone basin in distraction, only to feel that the voice of Maca's call came from far and near, pulling his mind back to reality.

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

Seeing that Crouch was standing firm, Maca stretched out her wand and stirred it in the meditation basin, and then brought out the flocculent memory from before, and let it completely dissipate with a wave of her hand.

“…… That ...... The key? ”

As if he understood something, Old Barty subconsciously put his hand into his trouser pocket, and shuddered and pulled out a brass key that was exactly the same as what he had just seen.

It was this brass key that Barty Jr. used to trap his father in a magic box; It was this key that Sirius, at Maca's beh, rescued Barty Sr. from the magic chest.

When Barty Sr. was rescued by Sirius, he was already in a state of dehydration, and if Maca hadn't noticed the key, Barty Sr. would have died of thirst in the box if he hadn't rescued him in time.

Even Maca couldn't tell if Barty's last action at that time was a coincidence.

But now, it doesn't really matter what the facts are.

“…… Thank you...... Yes, thank you......"

Old Barty's gaze moved from the key to Marka's face, and he sincerely thanked him.

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

Maca just nodded, then watched Barty Sr. say goodbye to Dumbledore and Moody again, and then slowly walked away with her back on her back. It's as if he came here today just to get a good look at what Maca looks like, and barely said a few words.

"Mr. Crouch has just returned from the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore whispered as he looked at the door to the Headmaster's Office, which had been closed again, "and he told me that he had just resigned. Next, he plans to adopt one or two orphans and grow up with them. ”

"It's not easy to be a single parent." Maca shrugged.

The mad-eyed man glanced at him and said casually: "The Crouch family is only short of population now, not money. ”

"They don't lack money, but we don't!" Dumbledore quipped, "Marca, what's going on at the new stronghold?" So the old house, I'm afraid it will take a little more effort to renovate it, right? ”

……

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

The scar-headed boy who wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses from morning to night and liked to lift his belt when he was okay suddenly lowered his profile since he almost had irreparable consequences in his second project.

He felt sorry, really sorry!

Even if he has already been forgiven by the parties, he has never been able to let go. He didn't know how long this pent-up emotion would last, maybe a month or two? A year or two?

Or for a lifetime?

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

I need to take a little longer......

Harry lay back on the bed, looking at the curtain above his head, remembering the years he had been at Hogwarts.

Whether others regard him as a savior or a plague, he Harry Potter has always been a popular teenager. Here, it's as if everyone knows him, everyone knows the past that even he doesn't know.

But the foundation of this popularity is built on a name that is so terrifying that you don't even dare to name it—oh, remember Maca said, it seems to be because of some name magic?

All right! All in all, others only know him because of Voldemort!

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

With a long sigh, Harry rolled over and got up, only to find Ron still asleep in bed when he had finished his hasty wash!

Harry had actually noticed that there seemed to be something unusual about Ron and Hermione. But he himself was very bored! I really don't have the heart to care about the two of them.

Is it nothing more than a quarrel? How many times has this been?

Just the other day, they seemed to have reconciled again...... Not for anything else, just because when Harry woke up to drink water at night, he could hear Ron's snoring again.

Harry didn't bother Ron with his sleep, instead turned and left the dormitory, heading outside for the common room.

It's a new day, and he'll have to get ready for the third event of the Final Three.

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

Ron's exams were coming to an end on the day of the third project, and he should have had time to revise up, but he was very eager to help Harry and Hermione prepare—though sometimes it was a bit of a disservice.

"Don't worry," Ron said without hesitation when Harry pointed out the problem with the review and suggested that he and Hermione could practice on their own, "at least I can get a high grade in Defence Against the Dark Arts class...... Even Mad Eye Moody wouldn't teach so many spells in class! ”

"And ......," Ron said, suddenly trying the obstacle spell on a wasp that was buzzing into the house, causing it to stop in mid-air, and then he said excitedly, "...... This is a good training for me to become an Auror in the future. ”

"You want to be an Auror?" Harry was surprised.

Ron tilted his head in embarrassment and said, "It's just talking...... Pretty cool, isn't it? ”

As the days passed, and before I knew it, it was already June, and the atmosphere in the castle became tense and exciting again.

Everyone is looking forward to the third competition, which will be held a week before the holidays.

Harry and Hermione practiced spells whenever they had time, and it was clear that they were both working very hard, as they clearly felt that their strength was lacking.

Judging from the first two projects, this third project is definitely a difficult journey.

Professor McGonagall always bumps into Harry, Hermione, and Ron practicing around the school, so she allows 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 is spreading to the ears of students through various channels.

As Maca said, Voldemort did have a lot of frequent and trivial actions, from roadside thefts to explosions in private homes, and all kinds of cases were drastically draining the security of the Ministry of Magic.

But what is hidden in it is the fierce collision between the newborn Order of the Phoenix and the old Death Eaters, again and again.

Maca is not convenient to shoot directly for the time being. However, with the potions he provided from time to time, he became an excellent logistician who was unanimously appreciated by all members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius now sends an owl to deliver letters to Harry every day, and like Ron, he seems hell-bent on helping Harry through that third project before he thinks about anything else.

In each of his letters, he reminded Harry that you are not responsible for matters outside of Hogwarts, and that you are not in a position to influence them.

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

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