The old Barty Crouch Sr. had once pursued high office and longed for power.
But now, he knew what kind of mistake he had made back then.
At the time, he had been so desperate to stabilise his position that he had not even given Barty Crouch Jr. the chance to defend himself before sending him to Azkaban.
Yet his heart had not been hard enough. Unable to withstand his wife's pleas, he had allowed his gravely ill wife to take Barty Crouch Jr.'s place.
The result had been condemnation from the outside world over the way he had raised his son, as well as Barty Crouch Jr.'s hatred.
Even after he had controlled Barty Crouch Jr. at home with the Imperius Curse for more than ten years, he still could not regain his power.
After John told him that Barty Crouch Jr. had not actually taken part in the incident involving the Longbottoms, he understood just how terribly wrong he had been.
After sitting in the position he had once dreamed of, he had constantly numbed himself with work.
The best Minister for Magic in ten years.
The best Minister for Magic in twenty years.
The best Minister for Magic in fifty years.
The best Minister for Magic in a hundred years.
He kept making progress, but his relationship with his son continued to grow more distant.
"I am very fortunate," Barty Crouch Sr. said, looking at Pierce, "to have a very good partner."
The Silver Hand had changed everything, altering Barty Crouch Sr.'s views on power.
He would take part in the election.
But when it came to Barty Crouch Jr., he truly wanted to make amends.
As for the werewolf equality bill, it was more like a repayment for what the werewolves had given.
After leaving the Ministry of Magic, Barty Crouch Sr. returned to the empty Crouch house.
This place had once been a lively home of three. Now, he was the only one left.
Staring at the First Class Order of Merlin, Barty Crouch Sr. leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh.
"Tired?"
John's voice rang out, and Barty Crouch Sr. looked over.
John shrugged. "I hope you don't mind me coming uninvited."
"No," Barty Crouch Sr. said with a smile. "I'm very glad."
"Looking at it this way, it seems you really do regard me as a friend."
A partnership meant mutual respect. Only a friend would suddenly come to visit.
John was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "Barty Crouch Sr., you've changed."
The old Barty Crouch Sr. would have panicked because John took off his mask, and he would have warned John because of problems with public opinion.
But the current Barty Crouch Sr. seemed a little different.
"If you want to be friends, I don't mind." John walked over and sat down on Barty Crouch Sr.'s sofa.
He looked around and said curiously, "This place isn't much different from the last time I came."
"Perhaps you could let Winky come back to work."
Winky was the house-elf Barty Crouch Sr. had driven away, though it was now working at Hogwarts.
"Your suggestion is good." Barty Crouch Sr. nodded and said, "I'll find an opportunity to let Winky come back."
"Hogwarts never restricts you. You're far freer than I was when I was at school," Barty Crouch Sr. said.
John said casually, "When you were at school, there wasn't a noseless fellow around."
"But there is one thing I need to confirm with you." John rubbed his ring and asked, "Are you going to take part in the election?"
Barty Crouch Sr. paused for a moment, then stood up, walked over to John, and held out his hand. "I think I will."
John shook his hand and said lightly, "Then I know what to do."
"John," Barty Crouch Sr. asked, "are we friends?"
"Maybe," John said, standing up and straightening his clothes. "That depends on what you think."
"I hope we are," Barty Crouch Sr. said seriously.
"Then we can go to a pub together someday," John chuckled. "That would make us seem more like friends."
"We will."
Barty Crouch Sr. smiled.
"John." Just as John was about to walk out the door, he called him again. This time, he said, "We are friends."
John was slightly startled, then nodded and left.
Barty Crouch Sr. stood alone in the Crouch house, looking at the dim candlelight as he murmured to himself, "When the election is over, I can find a pub."
Shaking his head, he threw himself back into work.
...
"It's lonely at the top."
John walked out of the Crouch house and drew his hand across the air in front of him.
A golden trace opened into a passage leading to Hogwarts.
He walked inside and turned his head to see Malfoy, who had been startled.
"How did you do that?" Malfoy came over with shining eyes once he recovered.
John snapped his fingers, and the passage vanished.
"Magic, of course." He glanced at Malfoy, who was still awake in the common room. "Are you alone?"
"Of course not." Malfoy looked around, then lowered his voice and said, "I'm with Astoria. I think Daphne has been acting very strange lately."
"Just because she hasn't hung you up?"
"She really hasn't hung me up."
As those words fell, John looked at Malfoy with an indescribable expression. "Don't you think that's a good thing?"
"It is a good thing," Malfoy said awkwardly. "But it doesn't make sense. Even when I hold Astoria's hand right in front of Daphne now, I don't get hung up."
"I advise you not to test her limits." John was speechless. This fellow really was asking for trouble.
Malfoy said seriously, "I think she's really sad this time, John."
Sad?
Was he referring to what had happened with the chef at the Chelsea Muggle restaurant during the Christmas holidays?
John thought for a moment and said, "Do you think I should send someone to deal with that chef..."
"Of course not, although that is a good idea," Malfoy said after thinking it over. "Maybe she feels that she can't help you."
"I've never thought of her as a burden, Draco."
"But she will think that."
Malfoy said, with rare seriousness, "You're too perfect, John."
"Your perfection makes people unable to find the meaning of staying by your side."
Malfoy said, "We all want to help you do something. Only then can we stand beside you openly and confidently."
John had not known that the friends around him were under such pressure.
His kindness toward his friends had never been based on any particular purpose.
However, he looked at Malfoy strangely and asked, "That doesn't sound like something you would say."
With Malfoy's carefree personality, could he really think that far?
Malfoy was furious. What did he mean, it didn't sound like him?
"Oh, Fleur told me to say it."
Yes, it really did not sound like him.
In class today, Malfoy had still been courting death right in front of Daphne.
Once John heard that it was Fleur, it was no longer surprising.
Fleur had always been the eldest girl in the Constellation Society, and she had always taken on the responsibility of an older sister.
Just like Percy, she was the sort of person who could sense when something was wrong.
However, when it came to girls, Fleur understood things more thoroughly.
"I'll talk to Daphne," John said.
Only then did Malfoy feel relieved. Astoria had been so worried about Daphne that she could barely eat.
This way, Astoria could finally eat properly.
...
Great Hall.
John looked at the plate in front of him. Although it looked ugly, at least he could tell what the original ingredients were.
"So... you've been researching new dishes these past few days?"
After reflecting on her painful experience, Daphne had found the problem within herself and decided to change it.
Hannah's practical experience had taught Daphne that the recipe was very likely not suited to Western tastes.
Since that was the case, she decided to change her strategy and bring Western cuisine to the table.
"I understand the logic... all right."
John looked at the thing on the plate that might be beef and cut into it with his knife.
He looked at the pink meat inside.
John: "..."
Being burnt on the outside and raw on the inside was also a kind of skill.
He had seen medium-rare before, but was this thing rare-rare?
Meeting Daphne's expectant gaze, John carefully asked, "You didn't buy this recipe from that Eastern wizard too, did you?"
"How did you know?" Daphne asked in confusion.
"Tell me his address."
In the end, John still ate it.
To be honest, he actually felt that it tasted better than before.
Even though he had no sense of taste.
For his teeth, eating a whole cow raw would not be a problem.
Mere raw meat, burnt on the outside and tender on the inside, had a strangely novel texture.
It gave him the feeling of chasing a cow across the great plains and gnawing on it.
"I think werewolves would really like this," John commented.
This made Daphne feel that she had found the right direction.
Looking at the delighted Daphne, John silently turned his head and stared at Malfoy, who did not dare meet his eyes.
Malfoy coughed twice, then left on the excuse that he had to prepare for a Quidditch match.
...
The reshuffling of the Sacred Twenty-Eight was still fermenting.
The Malfoy family held great prestige in this new ranking.
Those pure-blood families who wanted to join this ancient alliance had also gained an opportunity to show their sincerity.
Another council meeting at the Ministry of Magic.
It was regarding the werewolf equality bill.
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