Ludo Bagman's eyes widened in alarm as he stared at Harry.
What Harry had just implied was tantamount to an accusation.
A house-elf only obeys its master's commands. If it had been seen aiding Death Eaters and even helping one escape…
What did that suggest?
Bagman turned to look at Crouch.
"What do you mean by that, Mr. Potter?" Crouch's weathered face betrayed no emotion. In an instant, he composed himself, his features cold and his voice sharp. He countered,
"I regret how we handled Mr. Black's case years ago, but I hope—"
Years ago, it was Crouch himself who had sent Sirius to Azkaban.
There had been no trial.
From arrest to conviction to imprisonment, the process had been swift and ruthless.
Sirius, stubborn as ever, hadn't revealed the truth, and Crouch bore some responsibility for not questioning him further. But if the Ministry had followed proper procedures—if Crouch hadn't been so hasty—perhaps Sirius might have spoken up and revealed the real story.
Harry looked at Crouch with a calm, almost gentle expression.
"No, Mr. Crouch. If I wanted to get back at you, I wouldn't use something as petty as tattling."
"I'm simply stating a fact—an eyewitness account from someone who can speak, unlike many others who've been silenced."
"Or perhaps I'm mistaken. Does the Ministry have a tradition of ignoring testimony?"
Crouch's face twitched ever so slightly.
Ludo stepped forward, raising his hands in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
"Mr. Potter, surely you don't suspect Mr. Crouch! We trust him implicitly."
He paused, glancing at Crouch.
"Can I… mention it?"
Crouch nodded stiffly, his face impassive.
"Mr. Crouch is the model of integrity," Ludo began, his tone almost reverent.
"His son, Barty Crouch Jr., was once a Death Eater. He could have used his position to shield him, but he didn't. Instead, he upheld his principles, sent his own son to Azkaban, and never saw him again—not even before his death."
"Mr. Crouch despises Death Eaters. He'd never be involved with them."
Harry nodded slowly.
"That doesn't change the fact that the house-elf in question belongs to Mr. Crouch."
Ludo's expression faltered. He forced a strained smile.
"Maybe you're mistaken?"
Harry's gaze turned icy.
"It's easier to tell a house-elf apart than Leprechaun gold."
Ludo shrank back, clamming up.
At that moment, Crouch turned his head and spotted Sirius, Lupin, and Arthur hurrying toward them.
"HARRY!" Sirius called, his voice full of panic as he pushed through the gathered crowd. He could make out someone lying on the ground but couldn't see Harry clearly. His anxiety spiked.
"You're alright, Harry?"
He roughly shoved past Crouch and finally reached Harry, letting out a breath of relief when he saw him unharmed.
"Thank Merlin you're okay."
"Uncle Arthur!" Harry greeted warmly, his mood lightening as he spotted Arthur Weasley, whose balding head shone under the moonlight.
"I've got an early Christmas present for you. Hope you like it."
He stomped lightly on Lucius Malfoy's chest, eliciting a weak cough from the man beneath his boot.
Arthur gaped in surprise. Lupin struggled to keep his expression neutral, while Sirius's face lit up with glee.
"Malfoy! That snake! I knew it!"
"Well done, Harry. This slimy git should've been locked up in Azkaban decades ago!"
Arthur remained silent, unable to bring himself to speak. Unlike Sirius, he couldn't afford to be so brazen—he was, after all, just a modest office worker. Instead, he walked over and gave Harry a light pat on the shoulder, a subtle but meaningful gesture of approval.
"Mr. Black, perhaps he was under the Imperius Curse?" Ludo suggested tentatively, his tone conciliatory.
"After all, Mr. Malfoy is… technically your brother-in-law."
"Under the Imperius Curse for thirteen years?" Sirius scoffed, his teeth gritted.
"That's the same excuse he used to get off last time!"
He clenched his fists, furious.
"I've only just realized why I never saw him in Azkaban. He used that excuse to escape justice!"
Lupin tugged at Sirius's sleeve, gently pulling him back.
"What now?" Sirius asked, confused.
"Maybe skip the part about not seeing him in Azkaban," Lupin suggested wryly.
Nearby, an Auror cleared his throat nervously. His voice was hesitant as he addressed Harry,
"Mr. Potter, this investigation falls under the jurisdiction of the Auror Office. We've already notified Director Scrimgeour, and he'll be arriving shortly to take over."
Harry remained silent, his gaze steady.
The Auror hesitated further.
"Does… does that sound acceptable to you, Mr. Potter?"
Harry tilted his head slightly.
"I'm just a fourth-year student at Hogwarts," he replied, his tone neutral.
"And this isn't Hogwarts."
The Auror exhaled in relief.
But Harry wasn't finished.
"However, I'd like to remind you of something. Among those Death Eaters, there were several faces I recognized. Quite a few of them seemed… familiar."
Ludo froze mid-motion.
Crouch's face darkened further.
Lucius Malfoy, lying on the ground, grew even paler, as if all the blood had drained from his face.
"We'll likely remain in the campsite tonight," Harry told the Aurors as he turned to leave.
"If you need anything, you can find me in the red tent with the lion emblem."
Sirius sighed dramatically.
"The lion got burned off, remember?"
Harry corrected himself without missing a beat.
"The red tent, then."
The Aurors nodded and departed.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Sirius turned to Harry, incredulous.
"Only Malfoy? That's all you caught?"
Harry glanced at him.
"There was also someone named Avery."
"Just the two?" Sirius frowned.
"With your skills, I expected you to catch more than that."
Arthur tugged at Sirius's arm.
"Harry's only in fourth year…"
"It wasn't necessary to catch them all," Harry said calmly.
"The Ministry wouldn't be able to handle it if I did. And honestly, I didn't have the time to take down every single one of them."
Arthur froze, his mouth hanging open.
What did he mean by not enough time?
Were those words supposed to be used in this context?
"Almost half of those Death Eaters," Harry continued, "were people we saw in the stands earlier. Many of them were Ministry officials or from so-called 'sacred' pure-blood families."
"If I'd captured them all, the Ministry would likely do nothing. They'd release them quietly."
"So instead, I grabbed Malfoy. He can be their scapegoat—and a nice bit of payback for Uncle Arthur."
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