Barty Jr. apparitions with all his might.

Under artillery fire, he crashed into the Himalayas.

Surrounded by deserted everything.

"Father."

He fell to his knees, bleeding from his internal organs from the impact.

Coughing up a mouthful of bright red blood, he looked at the wand in his hand.

Suffering in his heart, he collapsed unsupportively.

He clenched his wand in his hand.

With the bitter cold of the night, he gradually fell into a dream.

In dreams.

He saw his mother.

Little Barty's impression of his mother's last moment was that of a withered face.

But here, he saw his mother's health.

Mrs. Crouch stood in the middle of the barrenness, and she slowly approached and crouched down.

With the palm that was as warm as before, he stroked little Barty's emaciated cheek.

"My child."

"Mother."

In the most heartfelt voice, Barty asked, "You're real, aren't you?"

"Yes." Mrs. Crouch smiled with tears in her eyes, "You've suffered a lot."

A sudden word of care, long-lost maternal love.

Barty couldn't stop crying, and he curled up his body.

"Why?" He asked, "Why, I'm going to survive."

He roared, "Why don't you let me die like that, let me die in Azkaban!"

The only thing that responded to him was his mother's clenched hand.

"I'm a stupid person, and I miss you so much, Mother." He wept uncontrollably in his dreams.

He misses his mother, he misses the indulgent pampering that can be infinitely tolerated, he misses the snowflakes that will caress his shoulders, and he has to pay attention to safety.

He was greedy for longing and wanted more.

His mother's love is not enough, and he still wants to prove himself.

Prove yourself to be a child who makes your father proud.

He went astray, joining Voldemort at his most glory, only to step into the abyss in a short time.

He did not prove his achievements, and his father sent him to Azkaban.

His mother died in prison trying to save him.

Why is this happening?

"It's that I'm not determined enough," he said in a trembling voice, "I shouldn't be greedy for life or death, I shouldn't beg you, Mother."

He began to babble, grasping his mother's hand, and pleading, "Take me away, Mother."

"We can be reunited, I can see you again, Mother."

He held it back for too long, and he had been like this since the day he learned of his mother's death.

It was not Mrs. Crouch who died in prison, but Barty Crouch Jr.

He was buried in the abyss and could not come out.

"No, kid." Mrs. Crouch gently took the grass stuck to Barty's hair with her hand, "You should go back."

"No, I'm not going back, Mother," Barty said anxiously, "I'm leaving, it's too painful here."

"You've always been a hard-working child," Mrs. Crouch whispered, "I've always known that."

"At home, I've been working hard, trying to prove that Crouch is on my body." She shook her head lightly and said gently, "Crouch is holding you back, you should put it down."

"I can't do it, Mother."

Little Barty shook his head repeatedly, "I'm Crouch, Barty Crouch's son."

"I've never made him proud."

"No, you make me proud."

A voice plugs in.

Barty Jr. looked up blankly.

He saw it, he saw his father.

The best Minister of Magic in a hundred years.

Old Barty walked out in the white light, and he walked over to his wife's side.

Looking at his son, old Barty sighed, "I was wrong."

"I never knew I was suffocating you

Rest, my son."

The excellent old Barty took his son's excellence for granted, and he completely forgot that the father is the father and the son is the son.

Putting that pride in his heart, he took it for granted that his son knew.

He was disappointed to see his proud son join the Death Eaters.

He was confused, why did his education have such a big problem?

At the sound of his wife's pleading, his father's heart was shaken.

But he was afraid that his son would have an accident again, so he chose the worst way to do it.

Barty Sr. looked at his son, and Barty Jr., who had tried his best to get rid of Crouch's name, was the one who was most bound.

With his father's intransordination, he said, "You are my pride, my son."

The broad palm landed on the emaciated shoulder, and a trace of distress flashed in Old Barty's eyes.

"Father......" Barty muttered to himself.

The white light became intense, and it was about to take the parents away.

"No, don't leave me!" He hurried up to chase after him.

He is getting closer and closer, and he is about to enter the white light with his parents.

But two hands stopped him.

"We love you, son." Old Barty shook his head, "You don't belong here, you should go back."

"There's no place for me."

Little Barty insisted on getting over, but Old Barty said, "What about John Wick?"

Barty Jr. paused.

Old Barty continued, "He needs someone now, and you need to save him, just as he saved you."

"My son," Old Barty shook his head with a smile, letting go of his sternness, "you see him as a guide, I've always seen it."

"John needs help, he's on the edge right now, and you need to enlighten him, just as he enlightened you."

The white light had enveloped the Crouches.

With a gentle push of both hands, it has infinite power.

"Be yourself, let go of Crouch, and do what you want, son."

The white light vanished before his eyes, and Barty Jr. stopped.

A tear fell from the corner of his eye.

Feel the wetness on your face.

He opened his eyes.

In front of him, an enlarged furry face was licking his face.

Little Barty looked at the wand in his hand.

The dream was real.

Reach out and push the furry face away.

It was a baby snow leopard.

And its family is watching from afar.

Little Barty looked at the big snow leopard, and the big snow leopard stood still.

When the little snow leopard saw little Barty wake up, he hurriedly ran towards his family.

The big snow leopard licked the little snow leopard's head, looked at little Barty, and turned around to leave with the little snow leopard.

Seeing the snow leopard drift away, little Barty sat there and didn't move.

It wasn't until the snow leopard was completely out of sight that he looked down at the wand.

"John Wick needs me."

He staggered to his feet and walked towards the mountains.

...

Bhutan.

John has been sitting for a few days.

During this time, more and more people came.

Rita snatched the quill from the person next to her, snapped it and threw it to the ground.

Taloid reporters dare not speak out.

As the editor-in-chief of the largest newspaper, the Daily Prophet, Rita is the ceiling in front of these news media people.

"Oh my God, Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"Sorry, please let me, let me thank you, no, I don't sign."

There was a commotion, and Rita looked over.

Gilderoy Lockhart squeezed out of the crowd.

He struggled his way through the group to Rita.

He saw John, "My friend, what's wrong with you?"

He was about to go over when he was stopped by Rita.

"Why are you here?"

Lockhart's prosperity is indispensable to Rita's help, so the relationship between the two is very familiar.

Hearing Rita's question, Lockhart got angry and said, "As his friend, Gilderoy Lockhart, will not sit idly by."

Rita was furious when she heard this, and Lockhart didn't look at the atmosphere at all.

What John needs now is to be alone.

"Okay, I'll wait for him here." Lockhart looked around, but didn't see a chair.

Rita gave him a blank look.

Someone else came.

Zoffie brought Lupin over, and he consciously didn't bother.

Lupin looked at the figure and said in a trance, "He's not yet twenty."

Looking at the people of the International Federation of Wizards waiting there, there are too many hopes weighing on them at this age.

Lucius walked over, he had just come out of the pacification work.

As long as it has John Wick's name, it's like a reassuring agent.

I don't know who started it.

More and more shamans are coming to Bhutan.

They were very accommodating, and no one came near that place.

They just waited quietly.

Waiting for their heroes, their ***.

"France has stabilized, and Germany has stepped in by Edgar." Lucius said to Mr. Diggory beside him, "The saints are spreading the word of purging, and the ignorant civilians have been deceived a lot."

"It's a disaster, but we have Lord Wick." Mr. Diggory said.

"Yes, Lord Wick."

Lucius looked.

Theodore was in the crowd, and he was more focused than ever.

That's when it happened.

A bang exploded behind John.

Little Barty looked at the lonely back.

He walked over.

Lockhart's face was full of questions, "How can he get there?"

Rita was also hesitant to stop it.

"Little Barty?" John finally spoke.

His voice was numb, and he said, "Your father is dead."

Little Barty paused slightly, and continued to stride forward.

He came to John and looked at the young face.

He knelt down slowly, moving his hand to his heart, and he knelt down on one knee, extremely reverent and earnest.

"Then avenge him, king."

This sentence made a ray of light appear in John's godless eyes.

"Son of Barty Crouch, the only descendant of the Crouch family, follow you, like my father, and become a friend of John Wick."

John looked up slowly, his gaze panning over Barty Jr. and behind him.

The sun shines on the ruins.

He saw it.

As far as the eye can see, the people who follow closely.

"Then get revenge."

...