Chapter 75: The Most Precious Thing in the World is Memory, Because That Time Will Not Return

December 24th.

Christmas Eve.

—Dumbledore was chatting with his old friend at his old home in Godric's Hollow, while Professor Minerva McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Sprout were holding a rather quiet Christmas Eve dinner at Hogwarts Castle.

London, Suburbs.

The Crouch family's underground bunker.

Because tonight was Christmas Eve, Wilson let Barty Crouch Sr. enter the bunker's safe house to have dinner with his son, Barty Crouch Jr. This was the most filling meal Crouch Jr. had had in half a year.

The last time Wilson visited the bunker, he specifically instructed the house-elf, Winky, to give Crouch Jr. only a slice of bread and a cup of water each day, making Crouch Jr. visibly thinner.

Under his father's watchful eye, Crouch Jr. wolfed down the sumptuous dinner without caring about his appearance and wiped his mouth carelessly.

"Where is that brat Wilson?"

Crouch Jr's face was still cold towards his father, his eyes as fierce as a wolf's. "When the master returns, I will tear that brat to pieces!"

Obviously, Crouch Jr. had not changed.

This Death Eater utterly hated Wilson!

Even though Wilson had freed him from the Imperius Curse, he had also taken away all his freedom, leaving him to count the days in the bunker.

It was a time that could drive a person to despair.

Crouch Jr. endured it all through his loyalty to Voldemort, longing for the day Voldemort would return and rescue him from the bunker.

Then...

He would unleash a massacre in this house!

The only company Crouch Jr. had were a pile of Muggle books filled with childish and boring stories, which he tore to shreds with his own hands.

However...

Wilson seemed to have anticipated this. Before leaving London, he had prepared a Christmas gift for Crouch Jr., entrusting Crouch Sr. to deliver it.

A whole box...

Of Self Therapy books.

When Crouch Jr. saw the familiar box of books, his expression became incredibly vivid. The thin skin of his cheeks revealed his veins as his emotions twisted, and he kept licking his lips!

This was a sign of Crouch Jr's rage!

Crouch Sr. knew his son's temper well and simply instructed the house-elf, Winky, "Make sure he eats well. Do not let him go hungry again."

"Are you pitying me?"

Crouch Jr. looked up sharply at his father, his tongue darting out to lick his lips before retracting quickly, his face contorted with rage. "I don't need your pity! Remember, I will never submit to you or that brat. The master will return sooner or later!"

"You're insane!"

Crouch Sr. was even more stubborn than his son!

This naturally cold father immediately stood up, adjusted his clothes, and was about to leave his son behind without a second thought.

However, as he opened the bunker door, Crouch Sr. remembered Wilson's instructions. He pulled out a small, beautifully wrapped box from his pocket and placed it on the table.

"This is your Christmas present."

After saying this, Crouch Sr. left without lingering.

"I don't need it!"

Even though he heard Crouch Jr.'s furious screams behind him, he ignored them, leaving the underground bunker with a cold expression as if he had no feelings for Crouch Jr. at all.

Until he closed the door...

This father crouched on the ground, somewhat defeated.

Standing at the entrance of the basement, Wilson calmly used his magic to close the safe house. "His longing for his mother will eventually surpass his loyalty to Voldemort..."

"Maybe..."

Crouch Sr. quickly composed himself, stood up, and dusted off his suit, reverting to his meticulous demeanor as a high-ranking Ministry official.

This man...

Always so composed.

Leaning against the basement doorframe, Wilson sighed softly, "Everything in the world is compared by people, even emotions. When they think about these things, they will consciously compare. When loyalty is compared, the defenses they set up for themselves will already have cracks..."

"I don't understand these things..."

Crouch Sr. rubbed his temples.

He never excelled at delving into complex emotions. He had no idea that after he left, Crouch Jr. opened the beautifully wrapped gift box.

Inside the gift box...

Was a photograph of Mrs. Crouch.

Crouch Jr. clutched the photo of his mother and wept uncontrollably!

This Death Eater, who had always been loyal to Voldemort, who had endured months of isolation and hardship, who had always been cold and resentful towards his father, was completely broken by the appearance of this photo...

This photo of his mother...

Became Bartemius Crouch Jr's only emotional support.

His loyalty to Voldemort, the responsibilities of being a Death Eater, the honor and status of being a pure-blood wizard, all paled in comparison to being able to cry out all his grievances in front of his mother!

What followed...

Would be endless longing.

Even the time spent following Voldemort couldn't compare to the moments in his childhood when he could snuggle into his mother's arms and fall asleep.

Crouch Sr. would not understand this feeling and remained focused on their business. "Tomorrow is Christmas. When are you going to Nurmengard in Austria?"

"Right now!"

Wilson produced a bottle of Polyjuice Potion, took a large swig, and his body began to transform, taking on the appearance of Peter Pettigrew in front of Crouch Sr.

"What a pity..."

Peter's voice was still sharp, but now it lacked its previous timidity. "Hehehe... What a pity... If only we had a photo of a young Dumbledore to give the Dark Lord as a Christmas gift..."

"There are plenty of current photos..."

Crouch Sr. frowned.

"Everything now seems cheap."

Peter's nails were still sharp. This puppet master Wilson impersonated a dark lord so convincingly that his sharp voice even gained a hypnotic quality.

"Precious things are always unattainable."

"People always think fondly of the past because they know those times will never return, making such memories particularly valuable."

"What do you think Dumbledore looks like in Grindelwald's memory? An old man with a white beard hardly fits his image of Dumbledore."

"Memory!"

"It records the most beautiful stories!"

"And the most painful lives!"

"..."

Crouch Sr. somewhat agreed with this.

Of course, he also had to admit that Wilson played Peter so well that he seemed like a crazed dark lord plotting behind the scenes.

Honestly.

Even Crouch Sr. sometimes felt that this Wilson, disguised as Peter, seemed more like a true dark lord than any other dark wizard.

It seemed as if everything in the world was within his grasp.

It seemed as if he could speak the world's truths at will.

It seemed as if no enemy in the world could be his match.

Crouch Sr. felt a sense of absurdity. This Wilson, pretending to be the third dark lord, was fake, yet he seemed more genuine than any real dark wizard.

"How will you get to Austria?"

Crouch Sr. shook his head and quickly asked a practical question. "The Portkeys to Austria were shut down this morning. If you use Apparition, you might exhaust your magic before you get there..."

Indeed.

Nurmengard, the prison that held the first dark lord Gellert Grindelwald, was not located in Germany, but in Austria.

For a long time, many people believed that Nurmengard was in Germany.

This belief wasn't entirely wrong. During World War II, due to a certain artist leading Germany, Austria was annexed by Germany for a period.

Coincidentally.

During that time.

Nurmengard was most famous.

Since Grindelwald was active then, his followers spread across Europe, with Nurmengard as the core, leading many to believe it was in Germany.

Of course.

Now it is certainly in Austria.

"I'll get to Austria soon."

Peter's grin was fierce, laughing cheerfully. "As the third dark lord, if I can't solve this problem, I'd be quite unworthy, right?"

With Peter's voice, magical auras began to light up rapidly at his feet, forming a powerful magical barrier within seconds!

The next moment!

Peter disappeared from sight!

(End of Chapter)

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