"…Dark Lord, based on this, I surmise that Jorkins must have seen some extraordinary secret, which is why she was silenced in secret," Snape said.
Yaxley's eyes lit up.
"Master—if this is true, we can use it to threaten old Crouch. He's the third most powerful figure in the Ministry of Magic, behind only Fudge and Bones. With his cooperation, we could plant and control a large number of people. The Ministry would no longer hold any secrets from us."
He spoke with practiced ease, for they had done exactly this the last time.
Voldemort offered no opinion but asked Snape, "Is there any more information? Have you personally seen old Crouch's son?"
Snape lowered his head. "No."
"Heh," Voldemort sneered. "I understand. Just like over a decade ago, when the all-powerful Dark Lord fell, his power lost and his whereabouts unknown, the Ministry hunted people everywhere. At a time like that, of course one would desperately protect oneself…"
The night wind suddenly turned biting. Snape and Yaxley stood motionless, silent as cold, hard stone.
"…Forget hatred, forget former comrades. Even if the enemy—who once personally locked countless Death Eaters into lightless prisons—shows a flaw, even if comrades who once swore loyalty to the same master suffer torment day and night…"
The surroundings grew terrifyingly still, as if even the wind had frozen. Yaxley trembled all over.
"Still, I thank you, Severus," Voldemort said softly. "Thank you for letting me know that my most loyal servant is still alive. When I lost all my power, four loyal servants tirelessly searched for my whereabouts. Bella, Rodolphus, Rabastan, little Barty…" He recited the names one by one, and with each, the air grew colder. At the tail end of summer, the breath from Snape and Yaxley turned to white mist.
"It's a pity they failed. They were brave—but foolishly stormed into the Longbottoms' home, not only getting themselves captured but ruining my perfect chance at resurrection. You cannot imagine how disappointed I was when I heard of their arrest… and yet how inspired… I had hoped… I had thought that soon, more loyal Death Eaters would find a way to reach me… that someone would use magic I myself could not cast to restore my body… But I waited in vain…"
"M-Master—" Yaxley called out.
"Crucio!" Voldemort suddenly raised his wand. Yaxley immediately convulsed all over. After a while, the wand lifted from him, and Yaxley collapsed limply to the ground.
"Ah, I've grown sentimental," Voldemort said. "I had intended to save these words for later, for a grander occasion… Somehow, the desire to speak was stirred. As for little Barty, I will send someone else to confirm. If the intelligence is accurate, I will waive your punishment. Go, Severus. Return to where you belong and continue gathering intelligence for me."
Snape left.
Once he was gone, Yaxley struggled up from the ground, his face twisted ferociously. "Master, send me. I will personally kill old Crouch and free your most faithful servant—"
"Call Bella over," Voldemort said.
"M-Master?" Yaxley asked. Voldemort glanced at him, and he immediately shuddered. "Yes, I'll fetch her at once."
The Ministry of Magic.
A man in his fifties emerged from the interrogation room, his posture straight, his face cold and hard. It was Barty Crouch. Behind him, others trickled out—languid, yawning, clutching scattered files haphazardly. As two Aurors led the suspect away, he specifically instructed them not to give the prisoner any opportunities.
"Yes, Mr. Crouch," one of the Aurors said. After walking a short distance, their tense demeanor slackened again. Crouch said nothing and continued toward his office.
"Working late again, Barty?" a voice called. Crouch frowned and turned to look at Ludo Bagman.
"You were absent from tonight's trial," he said coolly.
"Oh, don't be so stiff," Bagman replied in a light tone. "We all know the Ministry's just going through the motions to quiet those people down. I had other things to attend to." He yawned without restraint. "Heaven knows what's wrong with those French. They insist on including French specialty magical creatures in the competition."
"Bagman," Crouch sternly cut him off before he could continue, "these are all secrets. You shouldn't—"
"—shouldn't leak them," Bagman finished casually, waving a hand. He glanced lazily up and down the corridor and lowered his voice. "I know—every detail about the Triwizard Tournament must remain confidential. The problem is… I've already sent Jorkins over there. Poor old Bertha. The environment there should relax her frazzled nerves. I hope she doesn't let anything slip."
"Good luck to you," Crouch said, turning up another staircase.
"You're not going home?" Bagman asked, startled.
"I suddenly remembered some paperwork," Mr. Crouch said. "It's for the next interrogation." Without waiting for Bagman's response, he turned and walked away.
Moments later, he knocked on the door of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's office.
Behind the familiar desk, Amelia Bones regarded him with a grave expression.
"I thought you would turn yourself in voluntarily."
"I did intend to," Crouch said calmly. "All these years, I've been wondering what to do if it were discovered. It happened once before—under my hint, Bagman transferred Jorkins far away. But I didn't expect that, just over a year later, you would stumble upon the secret again."
"I gave you time to handle your affairs properly," Madam Bones said coolly.
Crouch's usually expressionless face grew dazed. "I don't have many friends. The only one I need to consider is Winky. I plan to hand her over to Dumbledore. But when I went to find him, he offered me another option—one that involves some risk but is far more valuable than going to prison…" Under Amelia Bones's increasingly cold gaze, he uttered a phrase: "The Snake Catcher Plan."
"You, Dumbledore—"
"He's waiting for my answer," Crouch said indifferently. "I agreed. I believe he will contact you soon to discuss new strategies."
The initial plan, naturally, was for Snape to leak Dumbledore's investigation into the Horcruxes. But that would mean bearing the full brunt of Voldemort's fury—and possibly being silenced.
Such a task was naturally left to a true Death Eater.
"Where is Dumbledore now?"
"He said he has two more things to do. One is to place a lock on my mind. The other he didn't disclose, but from his expression, it seems quite troublesome…"