The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 346 The Sleeping Sin (5.6K) (1/2)

However, Crouch remained completely unmoved.

Expulsion is only the first step, the first step to make her "disappearance" seem reasonable.

No matter what happens to a banished, mentally broken elf, it will not arouse suspicion.

He couldn't even be bothered to listen to their pleas anymore.

At the moment when Flashy was crying so hard he was almost breathless and his mental defenses were at their weakest, he raised his wand. The tip of the wand no longer glowed faintly, but instead emitted a deeper, more ominous green light, carrying the meaning of seizing and erasing.

Forget everything, a practical mantra.

He didn't need to kill her; that would attract the attention of those with ulterior motives.

All he needed to do was expel her legitimately, and then erase all memories from her mind related to "Barty Crouch Jr.", all the details of their escape that night, the wand, and their final moments in this clearing.

A banished sprite with damaged memories will soon disappear silently and "naturally" in a corner of the magical world, without causing any ripples.

As for what kind of irreversible damage this powerful and wide-ranging memory-erasing spell would cause to Gilgamesh's already severely damaged mind from the expulsion—whether it would cause him to become completely insane or have his memories completely confused and disintegrated—that was not within his consideration.

She was just a malfunctioning tool that needed to be handled safely, nothing more.

Just as the deep green light was about to touch Shanshan's forehead and the memory-erasing spell was about to begin—

"Given her pathetic loyalty so far," a calm, almost indifferent voice came from the shadow of an old tree at the edge of the clearing, "I don't think she deserves this outcome, Chief Crouch."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a cold bolt of lightning that cleaved Crouch's focused spellcasting state!

"Who?!" Crouch was terrified, his soul almost leaving his body.

Like a cat whose tail has been stepped on, he suddenly turned around with a speed far beyond his years, his wand drawing a sharp arc in the air, instantly changing direction and pointing towards the source of the sound!

The lingering light of the Oblivion Spell at the tip of the staff flickered and went out erratically. The backlash from the forced interruption caused a tingling numbness in his wrist, but he had no time to care.

His heart was pounding so hard it felt like his ribs were about to burst!

Someone saw it!

How much did you hear?!

Just as he turned around, the surrounding environment underwent a subtle change.

The thick fog that had been lingering and seemed to have a life of its own began to quietly recede and dissipate, like the receding tide, at an astonishing speed.

At the same time, the thick, accumulated dark clouds in the night sky seemed to be slowly parted by an invisible hand, and the cool moonlight, no longer obstructed, poured down like mercury, illuminating the open space that had just been ruled by darkness and mist.

The moonlight clearly outlined the figure under the ancient tree.

He stood there quietly, as if he had long since merged into the shadows.

His impeccably tailored grey suit stood out starkly against the surrounding chaos and mud. His jet-black hair gleamed almost silver in the moonlight, and his young face was expressionless except for a pair of dark eyes that calmly gazed at the menacing Barty Crouch.

There was no surprise, no anger, not even the usual scrutiny in that gaze, only a deep, unfathomable understanding that seemed to know everything.

The person who arrived was Lin Qi.

Crouch saw Lynch's face clearly emerging in the moonlight, and his initial shock quickly dissipated like the receding tide, replaced by a complex and indescribable sense of relief mixed with dejection.

His tense nerves suddenly relaxed, almost causing him to stumble.

He recognized the person, and more importantly, he instantly understood the hidden and fragile bond between them.

It's Lynch.

Not a colleague of the Ministry of Magic, not a curious reporter, not a dangerous enemy, or at least not entirely.

In some ways, they are even—allies?

There exists a non-public relationship between them based on informed consent and specific objectives.

Crouch knew Lynch's formidable other side, and Lynch, in turn, possessed the secret that could utterly destroy him: the fact that his son, Barty Jr., was still alive. This overwhelming sense of superiority and oppression made Lynch's very existence a tremendous threat to Crouch.

However, at this moment, this "knowing" brings a distorted sense of "security"—since the other party already knows the biggest secret, then at least there is no need to make futile attempts to cover up this embarrassing scene of silencing.

He slowly and completely lowered the wand that was still pointing at Lynch. A backlash of a sharp pain shot through his wrist from forcibly interrupting a powerful spell, and he subconsciously rubbed it with his other hand. The tense muscles on his face relaxed, but a deeper weariness and complex expression crept in.

Crouch glanced at Sparkle on the ground, whose wailing had turned into suppressed sobs, and who seemed to have instinctively suppressed her despair because of the appearance of the third party, before turning his gaze back to Lynch.

"When I saw that unusual fog rising from the camp," Crouch's voice was hoarse and dry, "I knew it was Lord 'The Hangman' who had intervened."

Lin Qi neither agreed nor disagreed with his address, but took a few more steps forward, the moonlight casting a silvery edge on his crisp suit silhouette.

"Anyone with a conscience and a sense of responsibility would not stand idly by in the face of tonight's atrocities against the innocent." His answer was calm and direct, his dark eyes appearing exceptionally clear yet profound in the moonlight. "Just like you, Chief Crouch, weren't you also led to this situation because you went out to try and rescue the trapped wizards?"

This statement reiterates Crouch's earlier "rescue theory," subtly placing the two men at a similar level of "actor."

Crouch remained silent for a moment; Lynch's lack of hostility was a good thing.

He pursed his lips and finally asked the question that had been lingering in his mind ever since Lin Qi appeared: "What did you mean by what you just said? She shouldn't have gotten this result?"

He was referring to what Lynch had said when he appeared earlier.

Lynch's gaze fell again on Flashy, who was curled up and trembling at Crouch's feet: "What I mean is," his voice remained steady, "that in tonight's unexpected and extremely exciting situation, facing a target who had broken free of the Imperius Curse through her own will, she thought of using an invisibility cloak to cover herself and successfully led her away from the danger zone. This is the limit of what she could do within her capabilities."

He paused, then looked up, meeting Crouch's suddenly sharp and dark eyes directly in. "She's not wrong, Chief Crouch. The one who's wrong is the person who imposed a task on her that was far beyond her capabilities and fraught with uncontrollable variables. You underestimated the impact of external stimuli on that being, and overestimated the control of the Imperius Curse. Tonight's oversight stemmed from the decision-maker, not the executor."

This analysis is cold and precise, like a scalpel, peeling away all of Crouch's self-deception in his attempts to shift responsibility, pointing directly to his fundamental mistakes as a decision-maker and a cover-up agent.

"No! No! It's not her fault! It's her fault for not watching properly—not watching properly!" Just as Crouch was rendered speechless by Lynch's words, his face turning pale and then red with shock, Sparkle, who was lying at his feet, seemed to have been flipped by a switch. She suddenly raised her head, her face filled with immense panic as she cried out. She interrupted him sharply, desperately trying to explain to Lynch, then turned to Crouch in fear, "Master is not wrong! It's Sparkle who is too stupid! Too useless! Please, Master, don't send Sparkle away, give Sparkle another chance, Sparkle will definitely do better—"

Sparkle was still sobbing desperately at Crouch's feet, her small body trembling violently with fear and grief, her tea towel soaked with tears.

"Your name is Flash, right?" At this moment, Lin Qi's calm voice rang out. He said to Flash, "Don't worry."

"6

Shanshan's sobs abruptly stopped, and her lightbulb-like eyes looked at Lin Qi with a confused yet faint glimmer of hope.

"Leave the matter of persuading your master to retract his order to me," Lynch continued, his tone carrying a strangely convincing calmness. "Why don't you go back to your master's tent first? Your master just mentioned that someone set fire to the tent. Crouch's property always needs someone to look after it."

These words instantly diverted some of Sparkle's attention. Loyalty to the Crouch family's wealth was practically ingrained in her bones.

The news that "someone burned the owner's tent" immediately ignited another emotion of shock and anger in her heart.

"Bad wizard! Damaging Crouch's property!" she screamed instinctively, her body even straightening slightly in anger.

But soon she shrank back, looking at Crouch timidly and pleadingly—she dared not move an inch without her master’s explicit command, even though the command concerned the protection of her master’s property.

Crouch listened silently to Lynch's comforting words and instructions to Shining, his expression shifting.

Lynch's analysis of "decision-making errors" was like a cold scalpel, precisely cutting into the core of his long-proud "capable" image.

Yes, Batty Crouch has always been known for his clear goals, tough methods, and ability to recognize and utilize talent—at least that's what he thinks.

He entrusted the most dangerous secret to Sparkle based on his trust in her absolute obedience and the magical contract, but he underestimated the uncontrollability of extreme external stimuli, overestimated the reliability of a single control method, and wrongly placed the heavy responsibility of guarding her life and death, which was beyond the adaptability of a little elf, entirely on her shoulders.

After the failure, his first reaction was to eliminate the "fault," erase the traces, and attribute the responsibility to the executor.

While this is undoubtedly the quickest way to cover up a secret, as Lynch pointed out, it's not the kind of responsibility a truly capable leader should have. A truly strong person should dare to confront their own decision-making oversights, rather than simply blaming an instrument incapable of bearing the consequences. This realization stung him, but it also calmed him from his panicked urge to destroy evidence.

He is a decisive person.

Once you recognize your mistake, you stop worrying about saving face or deceiving yourself.

He took a deep breath, his always taut jawline relaxing slightly, and looked at Shan Shan, who was still kneeling on the ground awaiting his judgment. He uttered two words briefly, his voice returning to its usual cold hardness, but without the ruthlessness he had shown when banishing her: "Go."

For Shan Shan, these two words were like heavenly music.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, then an overwhelming joy washed over her. She trembled with excitement, wanting to kowtow and laugh at the same time, stammering, "Thank you—thank you, Master! Thank you, merciful Master! I'll go right now! I'll make sure to watch over everything! I'll never let that wicked wizard touch Crouch's treasures again!" She practically scrambled to her feet, giving Lynch one last look of gratitude and awe, before taking off with her thin legs, running as fast as she could towards the camp, quickly disappearing at the edge of the woods, afraid that her master might change his mind.

Only Batty Crouch and Lynch remained in the open space.

The moonlight was cold and clear, and the surroundings were silent, with the distant clamor of the camp becoming a blurred background noise.

Crouch turned to Lynch, his face now showing weariness and seriousness, but the previous panic had subsided considerably, replaced by a melancholy of preparing to face reality.

He took a deep breath, his straight back hunching almost imperceptibly, and his voice was extremely low, carrying an unprecedented, almost pleading tone: "Lynch—I need help. Find him. Before he—before anyone finds him."

You know, his existence must absolutely, absolutely not be revealed.

Every word seemed to be squeezed out of his throat, carrying the weight of the entire Crouch family's fate, as well as his personal fear of being disgraced and possibly sent to Azkaban.

Lin Qi stared at him quietly for a moment, his dark eyes unfathomable in the moonlight.

He didn't immediately answer "yes" or "no," nor did he ask for details or try to bargain. He simply slowly raised his right hand, his index finger pointing backward to the tall, ancient tree where he had just appeared, its lush canopy casting a deep shadow in the moonlight.

With a barely perceptible stretch of his fingertips, the branches and leaves seemed to be moved by an invisible force, silently parting to both sides to reveal a small space hidden within.

Moonlight streamed through the cracks, illuminating an unnatural presence there.

The object was almost completely transparent, but because it covered a few leaves and twigs, its outline was clearly delineated—a curled-up, slightly undulating transparent membrane that shimmered with an extremely faint, watery sheen in the moonlight.

Crouch's heart suddenly stopped beating!

His eyes widened, and he let out a suppressed gasp.

He recognized it, or rather, he instantly understood what it was!

Immediately afterwards, Lin Qi gently hooked his outstretched finger in his direction, the movement elegant and casual, as if he were pulling an invisible thread.

The humanoid silhouette, shrouded in an invisibility cloak, along with the branches supporting it, instantly detached itself from the treetops and floated smoothly and lightly toward the center of the clearing where Lynch and Crouch stood. The entire process was silent; there were no whispers of incantations, no waving of wands, only the barely perceptible ripples of magic created as the transparent object moved through the air in the moonlight. Its movement was neither too fast nor too slow, demonstrating the spellcaster's precise control.

Almost in the blink of an eye, the humanoid figure covered by the invisibility cloak was already hovering in front of Crouch, no more than a foot off the ground, and remained still.

Crouch could no longer contain himself and practically pounced on him, his movements so fast he lost all composure.

His trembling fingers gripped the edge of the transparent film, and with a sudden upward flick, the invisibility cloak was ripped open and slid to the ground.

What was revealed below was Barty Crouch Jr., curled up in a deep sleep.

He wore the robe he had specially changed into for his outing that day. His face was pale, and his brows were unconsciously furrowed even in his sleep. His golden hair was damp with sweat and clung to his forehead. His chest rose and fell slightly with his breathing, and one hand unconsciously gripped a rather old-looking wand that seemed not to belong to him. He hovered quietly in the air not far from the ground, as if gently supported by an invisible force.

Crouch stood frozen in place, as if petrified.

He stared intently at his son's face, which was so close to his own, his gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar wand clutched tightly in his son's hand. Then he looked up at Lynch with disbelief, shock, and a sense of relief mixed with a deeper uncertainty about how Lynch had found him and how much he had been involved in the whole affair.

Crouch's gaze swept back and forth between Lynch's calm, expressionless face and his son, who floated in a deep sleep. A mixture of surprise, lingering fear, relief, and a deeper unease threatened to overwhelm him. He opened his mouth, his throat dry, unable to utter a coherent sound, finally managing only a broken question: "You—when!? How did you find him?"

His hand instinctively reached out to his son, as if to check on his condition, but froze in mid-air and clenched into a fist.

Lynch seemed to have anticipated his reaction. He remained standing, the moonlight elongating his tall figure, his voice as calm as if he were narrating a trivial matter unrelated to himself: "I arrived in this vicinity shortly after the Dark Mark rose." His tone was indifferent, yet Crouch instantly understood the urgency of the situation. Lynch had moved almost in sync with the Mark.

"Just then, we saw Mr. Weasley and Mr. Black chasing a panicked figure through the woods."

Crouch's heart clenched. Sure enough!

Those two people saw Little Batty!

"I judged that, at that time and place, the person who frantically fled and was relentlessly pursued by those two wizards was most likely related to the release of the mark." Lynch's tone remained calm, yet it revealed keen insight and decisive action. "I went around to the front. In the brief moment when your son temporarily escaped their sight by using the woods, I subdued him. He was extremely agitated at the time, showing signs of losing control and going berserk, and he was still holding this wand." Lynch's gaze swept over the unfamiliar wand in Barty's hand. "Making him calm down immediately was the most efficient way to prevent the situation from escalating."

"Afterwards, on my way back with him, I saw you here, so I used an invisibility cloak to cover myself and witnessed everything that followed."

Lynch gave a description based on what he had seen, which was enough for Crouch to piece together a terrible truth. Every word he said hit Crouch's heart like a hammer blow.

“Considering his identity, the situation at the scene, and the special circumstances tonight,” Lynch continued, calmly meeting Crouch’s gaze, “I believe that handing him back to you is more in line with the current needs than letting him fall into the hands of the Ministry of Magic or any other pursuers.”

Lynch neither took credit nor made any threats; he simply stated the "handling" measures he had taken based on his observations and judgments, along with their logic.

But this only made Crouch feel a deeper chill—in a very short time, the other party not only accurately intercepted the biggest hidden danger, but also made the decision to "return" it.

The executioner was no saint; what was his intention in doing this?

This is far more unsettling than outright extortion.

Crouch looked at his son, who was floating in front of him, breathing steadily but seemingly oblivious, then at the mysterious wand on the ground, and finally at the unfathomable Lynch in the moonlight.

He knew he owed an immeasurable favor, or rather, he had been drawn into a deeper entanglement orchestrated by the other party. Lynch found Barty Jr., took him under control, temporarily protected the Crouch family's secret, and completely seized control of his lifeline.

"So—now, what do you want?" Crouch's voice was hoarse, filled with weariness and a resigned compromise. "What should I do?"

He wasn't just asking how to deal with his son right now; he was asking what benefits Lynch wanted in exchange for him, Barty Crouch, and the secrets he had been desperately hiding, now that they were all laid bare before him, and how he and the Crouch family's future should be secured.

Under the moonlight, two figures, one standing and one frozen, lay between them, a sleeping sin and a silent bargaining chip.