"Official business? How come I don't remember you still have… ugh!"
Bagman had just started speaking doubtfully when Old Barty shot him a glare that shut him up.
Seeing this, Dumbledore didn't press further. He simply shook his head and said, "Then I wish you a safe journey, Barty."
Old Barty nodded, turned, and quickly made his way along the Black Lake's shore toward the Hogwarts hunting grounds.
It was the dead of night. The moisture rising from the Black Lake, struck by the chill of the moonlight, instantly condensed into thick, drifting fog that floated in the air.
Walking in the fog, Old Barty felt unbearably cold, and couldn't help tightening his coat.
But it did nothing to warm him, in fact, it only made him feel even colder.
Because compared to the outer mist, the chill flooding from inside his heart was sharper and far more biting.
He had a premonition.
The Death Eater attack at the bottom of the Black Lake must be connected to his missing son, Barty Jr.
And that Link Flamel had definitely noticed something as well, yet for some unknown reason had not revealed it publicly.
This was a father's instinct, and also the pressure from those fleeting glances Link occasionally cast his way.
That was why he was in such a rush to return to the Ministry, to return home.
He had to investigate this matter properly.
"Hoo!"
Old Barty took a deep breath, then exhaled a large cloud of mist, and quickened his steps into a jog as he reached the stables in the hunting grounds.
There, a Hogwarts carriage was already waiting as he had ordered earlier.
In front of it, the four Thestrals fixed him with eerie green, ghost-fire-like eyes, as if complaining that he was too late and had kept them waiting in the freezing night.
That stare made even a man like Old Barty's heart tremble.
Muttering a silent apology, he climbed onto the carriage.
He didn't go into the cabin, but instead sat in the driver's seat, pulled up the reins, and gave a light flick.
The Thestrals immediately obeyed, dragging the carriage forward. After a short run across the hunting ground, they beat their wings and soared into the sky.
High above, the mist was gone, but the cold was even sharper.
Now alone, Old Barty stopped pretending.
He didn't bother steering the carriage, but curled up against the chill instead.
After all, the carriages would leave Hogwarts' bounds on their own, and once he was past the castle's wards he could Apparate straight home.
As for the carriage, the Thestrals would return it themselves. Nothing to worry about.
Perhaps it was the cold.
His thoughts of Barty Jr. slowly faded, replaced by longing for his house-elf, Winky.
That elf was talkative, often meddlesome, but she was still a decent servant.
If she hadn't disappeared together with Barty Jr., he wouldn't have to endure this bitter cold personally driving the carriage now.
Unknowingly, Old Barty slipped into memories.
Recalling that summer, a faint smile crept across his lips, completely unaware of time slipping by.
Unknowingly, the carriage slowed down.
Sensing this, Old Barty finally pulled himself out of the whirlpool of memory. With a sigh, he drew his wand, ready to Apparate home.
But the instant his hand touched the wand in his robes, warning flared in his chest, he threw himself backward in a desperate dodge.
Whoosh!
A grayish curse, trailing sparks, grazed past his eyes.
'An ambush!'
Old Barty didn't hesitate for even a second. He scrambled, rolling and crawling, trying to dive into the carriage cabin.
The Hogwarts carriages were built of special birch wood, with some resistance to magic.
And now that the carriage had clearly flown outside Hogwarts' range, as long as he got inside, he could gain a moment's safety, enough time to Apparate away.
That was the plan.
But reality was cruel.
Before he could make it inside, massive ballista bolts, each as thick as a grown man's thigh, or rather, spear-like wooden stakes, shot in from every direction, slamming into the carriage, blowing it to pieces in a storm of shattered wood.
At the same moment, the attackers finally revealed themselves.
They were riders, mounted on Nimbus 2001s.
But unlike Old Barty, these knights clearly had abundant experience in night combat.
Their bodies were covered in cold-proof leather armor, their heads sealed in solid full helmets. The eerie blue glow reflecting from their visors suggested night-vision, even x-ray charms.
Most crucially, their brooms.
Each Nimbus had been illegally modified. Where the handle should have been smooth, giant, complexly-built ballistae were mounted instead.
The very bolts that shredded the carriage had come from these weapons. And now, the great crossbows were already cocking themselves again, preparing for another volley.
The moment Old Barty saw their gear, his pupils shrank to pinpoints, his heart flooded with shock and rage.
Because these men were magical beast hunters, top-tier ones.
And in all of Britain, there was only one family with the power to command such hunters.
"Link Flamel!"
Old Barty howled hysterically, forcing his trembling body upright and raising his wand to fight back.
As a former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he was no weakling.
But the hunters gave him no chance.
Hearing him shout Link's name, the hunters only grinned savagely. Each one shoved his wand into the crossbow mechanism before him.
Twang!
A flash of blue light, and the sharp crack of bowstrings split the night.
But this time, what flew out was no bolt, it was nets. Huge, glowing blue nets, flying from every direction, wrapping Old Barty tight in an instant.
Arcs of electricity coursed across the net, crackling violently.
In a moment, Old Barty lost consciousness.
———
Tap… Tap… Tap…
Footsteps echoed in a dark corridor.
It was already midnight. Link walked without lighting a lamp, step by step until he reached the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
By instinct, he glanced toward the Headmaster's office. Hearing no sound from that direction, he pushed open the door that appeared in the wall.
The door opened.
Inside was no longer the training ground or the greenhouse he was used to, but a dark, damp dungeon.
Vast and echoing, faint water sounds lingered in the air. Green, ghost-fire-like torches hung on the walls, but their glow barely lit the nearby cells, leaving everything else in shadow.
Descending the stone steps, Link soon stopped before a particularly small cell.
Inside lay Old Barty Crouch, freed of all restraints, but still unconscious.
Under the torchlight, Link's lips curled in a wicked smile.
He was very satisfied with the Flamel family's hunters.
With his intelligence support, they had captured Old Barty without a trace. And with the help of the house-elf, Little Button, they had even smuggled him directly into the Room of Requirement.
Such a feat was far beyond ordinary dark wizards, or even Aurors.
In fact, these hunters' skill even surpassed many veteran Death Eaters.
Nodding in satisfaction, Link flicked his wand. Silvery-white light spilled over Old Barty.
Old Barty quickly stirred awake.
But he didn't get up. He lay still, eyes half-slit, silently observing his surroundings by peripheral vision and sound.
Link found it amusing.
Without a word, he twitched his wrist. Arkam slithered through the iron bars into the cell, coiling tight around Old Barty's neck.
Feeling the slimy, bone-chilling constriction, Old Barty stopped pretending.
He didn't dare tear at the serpent around his throat. Instead he sat up, teeth gritted, glaring at Link.
"Link Flamel! Do you know what it means to kidnap a Ministry official? Your whole family will be destroyed for this!"
"Alright, enough. Don't waste my time. It's late, let's get to the point."
Link waved dismissively, impatient. "Where is your son, Barty Crouch Jr.?"
At these words, Old Barty's pupils shrank again in the dim light.
He stared at Link towering above him, but still ground out, "My son died years ago in Azkaban! I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Still lying!" Link's eyes turned cold. His patience was gone. "Cruciatus!"
No flash of light.
Just a flick of his wand, and Old Barty's face contorted grotesquely, his exposed muscles spasming violently, his whole body twisting and thrashing like a caterpillar.
"Aaaahhh!"
His scream ripped through the dungeon, then was suddenly cut off.
It was Arkam.
The serpent swelled massively, binding Old Barty's body and jaws, silencing him completely.
A smile spread across Link's face again.
Screams and struggling were only instinctive relief against torture.
By stripping Old Barty of both, the pain of the Cruciatus became magnified several times over.
"What a pity." Link said calmly, sinking into a seat.
A stone chair shot up from the ground, catching him as he sat.
The Cruciatus curse faded from Old Barty.
It had lasted only seconds, but he was already utterly spent.
He lay limp, like a fish dragged from water, mouth opening and closing for air, eyes glazed and vacant.
"Where is your son, Barty Crouch Jr.?"
Link asked again, voice still calm, almost lazy, from his stone chair.
The words seemed to drag Old Barty's wandering mind back. He lifted his eyes weakly, struggling to say, "I don't know... ugh!"
Link didn't wait for him to finish. He had never expected useful information, he knew perfectly well Ministry officials like Barty had anti-interrogation training. Even if tortured to madness, he would never confess.
What Link wanted was for Old Barty's subconscious to recall Barty Jr. on its own.
And now was the perfect moment.
Without giving him another second, Link raised his wand again.
"Legilimens!"
BOOM!
A deafening crack roared in Link's ears.
At once, he felt his consciousness pulled, sucked violently into Old Barty's mind.
Light flared, then scenes, old and faded, unspooled before his eyes like a film in first person.
The first was Barty Crouch Jr. receiving his N.E.W.T. results and graduating Hogwarts.
Link saw the young man, handsome, in Slytherin robes, bounding up to him (or rather, Old Barty), shouting and waving his results in excitement.
And on that parchment were ten "Outstanding" marks.
In the gray of memory, those letters burned blood-red.
So vivid, so striking, that Link, no, Old Barty, couldn't look away.
Joy burst in his chest.
He embraced Barty Jr. tightly. Both laughed, tears glistening faintly.
Then came happy family days.
Old Barty's wife appeared at last in the memory.
Not beautiful, but gentle, kind, endlessly soft.
Though born of a pure-blood family, she could not even scold a house-elf.
That summer after Barty Jr.'s graduation, the three of them lived in happiness.
They traveled, ate together, visited friends…
When the holiday ended, Barty Jr., with Old Barty's guidance, entered the Ministry, joining the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
In this long stretch of memory, Old Barty's heart overflowed with pride and joy.
Through it, Link could feel how proud and delighted he had been in his son.
But joy only lasted so far.
And no further.
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