A cold light flashed behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles.
"So from the very beginning, the one who put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire was..."
"It must have been Barty Crouch Jr.," Sagres confirmed.
Professor Flitwick couldn't help but cry out again. "Merlin... We actually let a Death Eater stay in the castle for nearly an entire term. Has the real Alastor already..."
There was neither anger nor sorrow on Dumbledore's face, but his voice was noticeably heavy.
"Actually, I should have noticed sooner. Alastor drank often, but he almost never smelled of alcohol..."
"Now isn't the time to blame ourselves," Sagres said. "He would have needed to keep taking Polyjuice Potion throughout the disguise, which means the real Moody is very likely still alive, perhaps imprisoned somewhere in the castle."
As he spoke, he slipped the severed ear into his pocket and added, "I suggest searching his office first. If you're lucky, you may find the Marauder's Map there. Of course, he may have taken it with him..."
His gaze swept over the students present. Some were bruised and swollen, while others had hair singed and curled by the flames. Everyone he looked at instinctively lowered their heads.
Sagres didn't care. No one here was seriously injured or dead, which secretly allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief.
Saving people was indeed much more troublesome than killing them.
He looked up at Noctis circling in the sky as the light of Apparition began to gather around him.
"Wait!" Professor McGonagall cried urgently. "Are you going after him alone?"
The light surrounding Sagres grew brighter.
"With every second we delay, Potter's chances of surviving grow slimmer."
"Do you need..." Thunderbird hesitated.
Sagres calmly shook his head.
"No."
Then he turned his gaze back to Dumbledore.
"If you find the Marauder's Map, I suggest immediately carrying out a thorough search of the castle to see whether there are any other enemies hiding here."
At that point, he seemed to remember something else.
"Also, the feathered serpent has disappeared without a trace. I don't know whether it crawled into someone's pocket or shoe..."
Before he could finish speaking, his figure completely vanished into thin air.
From the distant Forbidden Forest came Noctis's sharp cry, as though guiding her master.
Dumbledore wanted to say more, but Sagres had already disappeared, leaving only a faint trace of residual magic in the air.
The Headmaster turned and immediately began issuing instructions to the professors.
"Minerva, please notify all teachers and students to gather in the Great Hall at once. Severus, take some people and seal every exit from the castle. I will personally search the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office."
After speaking, he turned towards the headmasters behind him, his tone earnest and firm.
"Gentlemen, this matter is extremely serious, and Hogwarts requires your assistance. Aram, Alfonso, Igor, I hope you can help Professor Snape seal the exits. Harriett, Madame Maxime, could I ask you to help calm the students?"
Everyone immediately nodded in agreement. Only Karkaroff's expression shifted uncertainly, but under everyone's gaze, he eventually gave a reluctant nod.
...
The biting cold air cut like a knife, but even that sting was nothing compared with the spatial distortion caused by Apparition.
When Harry finally broke free from the suffocating squeezing sensation, he found himself lying in an overgrown graveyard.
Pale moonlight outlined the crooked tombstones, while the distant spire of a church was faintly visible against the night sky.
A faded place name was written on a dilapidated signpost at the crossroads.
Little Hangleton Church Graveyard.
Barty Crouch Jr. had already shed his disguise. He roughly shoved Harry down beside the base of a weathered angel statue.
He was breathing heavily. His magical eye had disappeared during the previous Apparition, and his remaining eye was bloodshot as it frantically swept over their surroundings.
The gruesome wound on his left temple, where Sagres's spell had grazed him, was still fresh. Blood trickled down his cheek and soaked into his worn collar.
"Ha, that guy was dangerous!"
Grinding his teeth, he waved his wand. The blood and dust covering him instantly vanished, though the wound itself remained horrifying.
He quickly cast several Confundus Charms and spells to conceal their traces around the area, his movements remarkably practiced.
Harry struggled fiercely, but the magical ropes held him fast, and with his mouth bound, he could only make muffled sounds.
He watched Barty's every movement intently, his heart pounding violently in his chest as an icy chill spread down his spine.
At the same time, however, he kept reminding himself not to panic.
He still had the Portkey ring Professor Greengrass had given him. All he needed to do was channel a trace of magic into it, and he could escape immediately.
What he needed to do now was figure out their plan, their accomplices, and their hideout, then bring back as much information as possible.
"No time to waste, Potter."
Barty gasped and grabbed Harry by the collar, his eyes burning with obsession and fanaticism.
"The Master is still waiting for us... We have to do it again."
No sooner had he spoken than the familiar squeezing sensation returned.
The world spun, and Harry felt as though he were being forced through a narrow rubber tube.
When their feet touched the ground again, they had arrived somewhere even more eerie and terrifying.
It was even more desolate and dilapidated than the graveyard at Little Hangleton.
The air was thick with the smell of damp rot, mixed with the pungent odour of some unknown potion.
Before them stood a wooden house almost completely swallowed by vines and moss. Its broken windows resembled hollow eye sockets.
The entire building seemed ready to collapse beneath the moonlight, and every inch of the air was saturated with the stench of Dark Arts.
Without hesitation, Barty dragged Harry towards the wooden door, stumbling as he went.
He didn't push it open. Instead, he knocked several times in a specific rhythm.
After a moment of suffocating silence, the door creaked open slightly.
Through the narrow gap appeared Peter Pettigrew's cowardly, greasy face. His small, watery eyes gleamed with fear and servility in the darkness.
"Barty! You're finally here!"
Wormtail's thin voice trembled as he hurriedly stepped aside.
"Come in quickly! The Master was just about to contact you!"
Harry froze when he saw that the person opening the door was Peter Pettigrew. For a moment, he had thought Pettigrew was dead.
Barty roughly dragged Harry into the house.
Inside, it was even more cramped than it had appeared from outside and almost completely empty. Only a small cluster of eerie green flames flickered in the fireplace, barely illuminating the gloomy room.
Beside the flames, a giant snake lay coiled upon a tattered blanket.
Its scales were patchy, with many rotting areas exposing bone beneath. Its festering head turned towards the doorway, its vertical pupils sweeping over Wormtail and Barty before finally settling on Barty.
A cold, high-pitched voice came from the giant snake's belly, filled with urgent anticipation and unquestionable authority.
"Did you bring it, Barty? Did you bring me my prize...?"
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