Barty Crouch was the Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic.
He was a serious and proper man, fluent in multiple languages, and had previously been the head of the Ministry's largest department—the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
During the wizarding war over a decade ago, he had consistently advocated using hardline tactics against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, making him a representative figure of the hawkish faction in the wizarding world.
So naturally, after victory in the wizarding war, he earned the trust of most people in the magical community.
After all, someone who persisted in fighting the enemy even in adversity wouldn't likely be too bad after becoming Minister of Magic.
Because of this, in the period just after the wizarding war's victory, Barty Crouch's reputation was unmatched.
Many people believed he would ascend to the position of Minister of Magic—and indeed, he was the most promising candidate among all competitors.
It was during this time that the hardline Crouch, without trial, had Sirius Black imprisoned in Azkaban.
Now, over a decade later, the two met again.
In Arthur Weasley and Ludo Bagman's view, this scene was inevitably awkward.
However, both Sirius Black and Barty Crouch acted as if nothing had happened.
Though unwilling to admit he was a member of the Black family, it had to be said he possessed that streak of Black family obsession.
For Sirius, back then he had willingly entered Azkaban to spend the rest of his life there because he had wrongly trusted Peter Pettigrew.
To put it more bluntly, he believed that suggesting James and Lily switch him out as Secret Keeper for Peter Pettigrew at the last moment was tantamount to causing their deaths.
So, when Barty Crouch declared he would be thrown into Azkaban without trial, he didn't protest.
In Barty Crouch's view, never mind that Sirius didn't defend himself.
Even if he had defended himself, in that environment it wouldn't have made much difference.
In everyone's eyes, Sirius had informed Voldemort, causing the Potters' deaths, and had also harmed Peter Pettigrew—these were facts.
The evidence was conclusive, no trial needed, direct execution—no problem whatsoever. At least not a single person had raised objections at the time.
As for the truth coming to light and the situation reversing, that was something that happened twelve years later.
Times had changed, and Barty Crouch had been laterally transferred from the most promising candidate for Minister of Magic to the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
Regarding his actions back then, it was hard to say Crouch had no regrets.
But compared to another more important matter, this matter seemed less significant.
So, when the two met, they merely exchanged simple greetings, and the situation Mr. Weasley and Mr. Bagman worried about didn't occur.
So, after mistakenly calling Percy "Weatherby" instead of "Weasley," only Sherlock and Sirius showed no reaction.
As for Percy himself, his ears had turned as red as his hair.
In this situation, he could only pretend to be absorbed in tending the teapot.
"By the way, there's something I've been meaning to tell you, Arthur."
Mr. Crouch said, looking at Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir is being provocative—he wants to talk to you about your flying carpet import ban."
Mr. Weasley couldn't help but sigh heavily upon hearing this.
"I sent him an owl last week specifically about this matter.
In fact, I've told him nearly a hundred times—carpets are defined as Muggle artifacts in the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects—but will he listen?"
"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup of tea from Percy. "He's desperate to export flying carpets here."
"But in Britain, flying carpets could never replace broomsticks, could they?" Bagman interjected.
"Ali thinks there's a gap in the family vehicle market."
Mr. Crouch said, "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster carpet that could seat twelve people.
But of course, that was before flying carpets were banned."
Hearing Crouch's final addendum, Sherlock glanced at Crouch again.
This man was rather interesting.
He seemed to want everyone to believe all his ancestors strictly observed the law.
"So, been rather busy lately, Barty?"
Once the flying carpet topic ended, Bagman raised a targeted question about this Quidditch World Cup.
"Indeed, quite busy," Mr. Crouch said dryly. "Organizing and arranging Portkeys across five continents is no easy task, Ludo."
"I suppose... you must all be eager for this to be over?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"What are you saying? Eager for it to be over! I've never been happier!"
Ludo Bagman seemed greatly surprised, but then changed tack. "However, the days ahead aren't without something to look forward to.
Right, Barty—we still have many activities to organize, don't we?"
Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman somewhat disapprovingly and said, "We promised not to make any public announcements until all the details—"
"Oh, details!"
Bagman waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting away a swarm of flies.
"They've signed, haven't they?
They've agreed, haven't they?
I'd bet you these kids will know soon enough.
I mean, after all, it's happening at Hogwarts—"
"Ludo, you should know we need to meet those Bulgarians now."
Mr. Crouch suddenly said sternly, directly cutting off Bagman's words. "And thank you for the tea, Weatherby."
He shoved the untouched teacup back into Percy's hand, waiting for Ludo to stand up.
Ludo could only struggle to his feet, draining his tea in one gulp, the Galleons jingling merrily in his pocket.
"Well, see you later!
Arthur, you know you're with me in the Top Box.
Oh, and Mr. Black over there too—Cornelius has arranged the best seats for you all."
He winked at several of them and smiled. "I'm the commentator for this match, so you can look forward to it."
After saying this, he enthusiastically waved goodbye to everyone.
Barty Crouch merely nodded faintly.
The next moment, both Disapparated before everyone's eyes.
"Is something happening at Hogwarts now, Dad?"
Fred immediately asked, not even mocking the fact that Mr. Crouch had once again called Percy "Weatherby" when leaving.
"What were they just talking about? What's going to happen at Hogwarts?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
Mr. Weasley said with a smile, clearly not planning to tell everyone about this matter.
"It's classified, only to be known when the Ministry decides to make it public."
Percy said seriously. "Mr. Crouch is right not to casually leak confidential information."
His approach would undoubtedly cause annoyance, so Fred immediately said without courtesy.
"Oh, shut up, Weatherby."
Everyone burst out laughing again, and the area was suddenly filled with cheerful atmosphere.
Seeing Percy frown and say nothing, Sherlock spoke lightly.
"If I were you, Percy, I would point out his mistake on the spot rather than remain silent."
"How could I do that?" Percy said in surprise. "How could I publicly point out a superior's mistake?"
Sherlock looked deeply at Percy and said no more.
Time passed minute by minute—noon, afternoon, evening.
An excited mood spread like a tangible cloud over the campsite.
By dusk, even the quiet summer air seemed to quiver with anticipation.
When darkness fell like a curtain over the thousands of eagerly waiting wizards, the last traces of pretense also disappeared.
The stubborn Ministry of Magic finally stopped opposing people and allowed obviously magical signs to appear everywhere.
As if yielding to an inevitable trend.
And so, every few steps, vendors Apparated from the sky.
They carried trays and pushed carts loaded with all sorts of strange things.
Real flying Firebolt miniatures.
Flags of both countries that played their respective national anthems when waved.
Green hats adorned with dancing shamrocks.
Bulgarian sashes with lions that actually roared.
These two were obviously the favorite souvenirs of Irish and Bulgarian supporters.
There were also glowing rose-shaped badges—green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria that could shrilly shout out players' names.
Besides these, there were naturally collectible figurines of famous players.
Those little statues could walk back and forth on your palm with a smug air.
The best-selling was naturally the figurine of the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum.
"Isn't Apparition supposed to be very advanced magic?"
Harry asked in confusion, watching this scene. "How does it seem like everyone can do it?"
"Harry, Apparition is indeed difficult, but that's relative."
Sirius smiled and patted his godson's shoulder.
"In my view, its greatest difficulty is actually the learning conditions—you must be seventeen years old to learn it.
In terms of difficulty alone, both Animagus transformation and the Patronus Charm are much more difficult than it."
"There's also survivorship bias."
Sherlock added, "The Quidditch World Cup has gathered wizards from all over the world, and the vendors who can Apparate are all here.
As for those who can't—you simply don't see them."
"I see."
Harry felt he had learned something.
Ginny beside him also nodded.
"Don't worry about some happiness bias!" Ron couldn't help interjecting. "We..."
"It's survivorship bias, Ron." Hermione corrected.
"Whatever that is, but now it's shopping time!"
Ron impatiently waved his hand. "I saved up all summer's allowance just for this."
He bought a hat with dancing shamrocks and a large green rose-shaped badge.
Clearly, he supported Ireland.
However, he also bought a small figurine of the Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum.
The miniature Krum walked back and forth on Ron's hand, frowning up at the green badge above him—very amusing.
However, seeing this scene, Hermione frowned.
She really didn't like this Bulgarian Quidditch star.
Sherlock, Harry, and Hermione bought nothing.
From this perspective, the three had similar personalities, not very interested in these flashy trinkets.
They were more concerned with practical things, or rather... were they thrifty?
"Wow, look at these!"
Just then, Harry rushed to a cart.
It was piled high with what looked like binoculars, but covered with all sorts of strange knobs and dials.
"These are called Omnioculars."
The wizard vendor clearly hadn't recognized the famous savior of the wizarding world, and enthusiastically promoted his merchandise to Harry, pointing at the goods on the cart.
"You can use them to replay match footage—mind you, in slow motion.
Of course, if you need, they can even flash rapid analyses of the match.
Don't hesitate—only ten Galleons for one.
Ten Galleons, you won't be cheated or fooled."
"I wish I hadn't bought this."
Ron looked at his dancing shamrock hat, eyeing the Omnioculars somewhat enviously.
Clearly, he was also very interested in these Omnioculars, but unfortunately, having spent all his money, he was short of funds and couldn't acquire them.
"No problem, you can buy a few and share them!"
The wizard vendor heard Ron's words and immediately suggested.
"Any match footage viewed with them can be recorded and won't disappear..."
"Sharing? Are you kidding me?"
Just then, Sirius suddenly interjected.
"If the foreigners next door see that, they'll think I can't afford it!"
The wizard vendor looked somewhat surprised at this handsome adult wizard.
In fact, he knew very well that selling an Omniocular for ten Galleons wasn't cheap at all.
But there was no help for it—the cost of these things wasn't low to begin with.
Plus, to come here and sell things, he had paid quite a price.
Without selling them for ten Galleons, he couldn't profit much.
Precisely because of this, several people pooling money to buy one and sharing it was natural, and just moments ago, he had successfully sold several using this tactic.
But he hadn't expected this wizard's reaction to be so strong.
"Ah no no no, everyone's the same!"
The wizard vendor quickly pointed at those foreign wizards to explain—they also had cases of several people pooling money for one.
"What do you mean everyone's the same!"
But Sirius wasn't buying it.
Just as the wizard vendor was getting a headache, Sirius's next words made him nearly jump with excitement.
"How can a few people share one pair of binoculars!
Get another one—one for each person!"
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