That summer could be said to be the only beautiful part of Old Barty's memories of his son.
In everything that followed, what Link saw was nothing but pain and helplessness.
First came the crushing burden young Barty had long endured under Old Barty's "expectations of greatness," until, inexplicably, he was swayed by Voldemort's extreme ideology and lured into becoming a Death Eater, one of the most fanatically loyal kind.
This alone was already a wound that would forever scar Old Barty's heart. But when Voldemort fell and the Ministry began purging his followers, at the very same time that Old Barty himself was stepping down, with the Ministry about to announce the next Minister,
His rivals seized upon the stain of his son being a Death Eater. They wanted to use it to strip Old Barty, once the hot favorite for the post, of his qualification to compete, and even drive him out of the Ministry entirely.
And in the face of this vicious attack, Old Barty acted ruthlessly.
In order to protect his power, he reversed the lenient, turn-a-blind-eye attitude he had shown other Death Eaters, and made an example of his own son, sending young Barty to Azkaban himself.
But even so, the damage his son had caused still led to his failure in that election battle.
After that came the most painful memory of all.
Old Barty's gentle, kind-hearted wife simply could not accept his sacrificing their son for the sake of ambition.
In her eyes, power and wealth were fleeting illusions, only family was truly important.
But she loved Old Barty deeply, and so she buried all her grief inside. At last, tortured both in spirit and by illness, when her life was nearing its end, she made one final request of him.
Rescue young Barty.
What followed was only natural.
Love for his wife made Old Barty soften.
Through his old connections, he pulled strings and carried out a switch, his wife, disguised by Polyjuice Potion to look like Barty Jr., was swapped with him in Azkaban.
That very night, Mrs. Crouch died in prison from her illness. And Barty Jr. was saved, becoming a "dead man on paper," hidden in their home under lock and key, cared for by the house-elf Winky.
If young Barty could have truly reformed, perhaps the Crouch family might still have found some peace and happiness.
But unfortunately, Barty Jr. had been brainwashed too deeply by Voldemort. Even after his rescue, he still ranted constantly about avenging the Dark Lord.
This led Old Barty to complete despair. In the end, he had no choice but to use the Imperius Curse to control his son's mind, imprisoning him in an iron cage to restrict his actions.
Yet frequent use of the Imperius Curse builds resistance.
And so, over time, Barty Jr. gradually regained his senses.
He tricked Winky, persuading her to convince Old Barty that "maybe watching a Quidditch match would help his recovery."
This got him out of the Crouch estate, and through the Quidditch World Cup, he escaped.
What followed was the part of memory Link found most interesting.
The record of Old Barty's investigation into his son's escape.
And the results made Link laugh and shake his head.
Because, just as Link suspected Old Barty of colluding with hidden forces in the shadows, or even of being the one who had freed his own son, Old Barty suspected the Flamel family of having already thrown themselves completely into Voldemort's camp, becoming the ones who had rescued Barty Jr. and stirred up chaos from the shadows.
The truth was, Old Barty's understanding of the whole matter was not nearly as deep as Link had imagined.
His only real advantage over Link was being a high-ranking Ministry official, able to obtain intelligence from within.
And from the reports he had gathered while searching for his son, the Ministry really did seem to harbor a hidden, shadowy faction.
He was certain that Barty Jr.'s disappearance that night, and even all the accidents during the Triwizard Tournament so far, were the result of this faction secretly meddling.
What was most important, Old Barty had discovered that this faction's headquarters was inside the Auror Office.
That was why he had been so tense lately, looking constantly on edge and half-deranged.
Unlike Link, Old Barty didn't have the advantage of foreknowledge as a transmigrator. He had only his political instincts to guide him.
And by his reasoning, the faction hidden within the Ministry's most elite combat unit could only have one aim, to launch a coup and seize control of the entire Ministry.
If they discovered he was secretly investigating them, then eliminating him physically would be as easy as eating or drinking.
"Hoo…"
When the memories ended, Link let out a long breath, finally pulling his consciousness back out of Old Barty's mind.
Overall, he considered this harvest quite rich.
Not only did he gain proof that Voldemort's dark faction had already infiltrated the Ministry and rooted itself inside the Auror Office, but he also confirmed Old Barty's stance beyond doubt.
That made the next steps much simpler.
A smile tugged again at Link's lips as he turned a "kind" gaze on Old Barty.
Legilimency not only let him read the other's memories, but also forced Old Barty himself to relive them.
So now, Old Barty's face was thick with grief and fury, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
He had lost all patience. Seeing Link look his way again, he ground his teeth and snapped, "What is it your Flamel family actually wants?"
"Something much the same as you. Believe it or not, we have nothing to do with that faction in the Auror Office."
"In fact, we're enemies. So, following the logic of 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend,' I think we could attempt some cooperation. Don't you agree?" Link said this with a smile.
He felt cooperation with Old Barty was absolutely necessary.
Not only did the man have influence in the Ministry, but as a judge of the Triwizard Tournament he also held great authority, very useful for rooting out the hidden traitors sabotaging the competition.
Most importantly, as judge and organizer, Old Barty had the right to alter the rules and content of the third task.
That meant Link could use him to shape the battleground into one entirely in his own favor, in preparation for a final confrontation with the hidden faction.
The only problem was, Link didn't expect Old Barty to yield so easily.
From the domineering way he had handled his son, this was a stubborn man, hardened with ruthless determination.
The sort who could easily explode into a "fish-dies-net-torn" mentality.
But to Link's surprise, before he even finished preparing his persuasion, Old Barty spoke without hesitation, "I believe you. I can work with you."
"Oh? You agreed that easily?" Link said, somewhat taken aback.
Old Barty only glanced disdainfully at the ebony wand in Link's hand, still glimmering with magical light.
"Do I have any other choice?"
"You really do see clearly!"
Link laughed aloud, dispelling the glow on his wand.
Old Barty was right, he had no choice. Had he tried to refuse or bargain, Link would have blasted him with another few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse without hesitation.
And even if he died from it, Link could always have Old Kled find someone to take Polyjuice Potion and impersonate him for a while.
"In that case, let's seal it with an Unbreakable Vow." Link's eyes sharpened.
"The terms, until that hidden faction is completely destroyed, you must obey my command entirely. Without my permission, you may not do anything to harm me or the Flamel family's interests."
"In return, I promise this, you may remain in your position as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and I also guarantee to save the life of your son, Barty Crouch Jr."
"Ha! That's no cooperation, it's making me your slave, isn't it?" Old Barty sneered. "But it doesn't matter. I'll accept those terms. Only, I need to amend your so-called 'reward.'"
"Oh?"
Link frowned slightly, thinking he was trying to bargain. "Say it. What do you want?"
"I want Barty Jr. dead!"
At that, Link's brows shot up.
He stared at Old Barty's twisted face, and with just the faintest touch of Legilimency he easily read the seething hatred, regret, murderous intent, and greed for power roiling within.
It made Link realize something.
At his core, Old Barty was no different from Percy, or any of the other politicians. They were all beasts of ambition, willing to sacrifice anything for power.
Once, Old Barty abandoned his son for power. Now, naturally, he was willing to kill him for the same.
A smile spread across Link's face again.
He didn't mock him for it. Instead, he simply reached out a hand.
"Deal."
Old Barty's twisted expression slowly smoothed into cold calm. Forcing himself upright, he reached out and clasped Link's hand.
At that moment, a hunter cloaked in shadow stepped forward, raising his wand.
"The vow… begins…"
A thin, dazzling tongue of flame spurted from the wand, like a glowing red-hot wire, wrapping around their clasped hands.
As they chanted the terms of the vow, the fire crept further, spreading to bind their whole bodies together until they were sealed as one.
———
The next day, the rare clear winter sky ended, and Hogwarts was once more shrouded in cloud and snow.
On days like this, apart from the Quidditch fanatics who braved the wind for practice, most students would usually become sluggish and lazy. Aside from mandatory classes, they gave up all outdoor activity, curling in the common rooms with books or chess.
But today was different.
Almost everyone rose early, gathering in groups to excitedly discuss yesterday's match.
At the center of it all, What exactly had happened under the lake?
Naturally, the champions were the ones most questioned.
But unfortunately, every one of them, including Harry, had been put under strict gag orders by the judges, forbidden to reveal any details.
Their secretive silence only inflamed curiosity further.
And since the champions wouldn't talk, the students turned their questions instead to the hostages who had been held beneath the lake.
Ron was the most eager of them all to tell.
Though in truth he knew very little of what had happened, that didn't stop him from spinning wild stories to win attention.
It worked perfectly. By early morning, the Great Hall was packed, almost everyone from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang as well, gathered around Ron, listening with rapt attention to his nonsense.
Link, meanwhile, was eating breakfast alone. No one sat beside him, and even the Hufflepuffs had gone to join Ron's crowd.
There was no helping it.
Last night they had indeed held a grand feast, even inviting many Slytherins, including Emily. Everyone had celebrated until dawn, happily noisy together.
But since they couldn't get Link drunk, not even Cedric or John had managed to pry any useful information from him.
Shaking his head in mild annoyance, Link drained his milk and ignored the crowd gasping at Ron's theatrics, heading instead for Snape's office.
To his surprise, Snape, who usually kept odd hours, had actually slept in. Link searched the office for a long while, and only after breaking the wards on his quarters' door did he finally find the man still asleep.
Unlike his usual gloomy appearance, Snape's living space struck Link as very warm.
There was nothing magical about it, its style resembled a simple British Muggle home from the 1970s, even more plain than that. His bed was just a small, narrow single.
Without being told, one wouldn't guess a wizard lived here at all.
Even more surprising, one wall was entirely filled with cups on wooden shelves. Different designs, different materials, spanning many eras. They looked less like everyday ware and more like Snape's collection.
As for Snape himself, the sight was even stranger.
For the first time, Link realized Snape actually wore pajamas to bed.
And not just any pajamas, an old-fashioned, embarrassingly garish black-and-green robe, faintly embroidered with the silver serpent crest of Slytherin.
It looked like some cheap giveaway from a house event, or worse, like the knock-off merchandise fangirls in Link's past life might have bought.
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