Chapter 255
Viktor Krum slowly opened his eyes, his expression blank and unfocused. When he saw Albus Dumbledore, he struggled to sit up.
"He attacked me!" Krum muttered, clutching his head. "That madman—he hit me! I was just looking around for Potter, and he struck me from behind!"
"Lie still for a moment," Dumbledore said gently, not pressing him further.
"What happened?" Minerva McGonagall hurried over, her tall pointed hat slightly askew, her grey robes rustling as she stopped beside them.
"Mileva, go fetch Madam Pomfrey. Ask her to prepare something to counter the effects of the Stunning Spell. Then inform Karkaroff—his student may have been attacked. I'll stay here and continue looking for clues," Dumbledore said seriously.
"Of course." McGonagall nodded and left at once, clearly understanding the urgency.
Moments later, Igor Karkaroff arrived in a rush, his silver-furred cloak gleaming faintly in the dim light, his face pale and tense.
"What's going on?" he demanded sharply when he saw Krum on the ground. "What happened?"
"I was attacked," Krum said, pushing himself up slowly. "I heard the name… Crouch…"
"Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge attacked you?" Karkaroff repeated, incredulous.
"Igor—" Dumbledore began calmly.
But Karkaroff cut him off, pulling his cloak tighter around himself.
"Madame Maxime! You're here as well?" he called loudly, as if drawing strength from her presence.
Olympe Maxime stepped forward, her opal jewelry catching the light as she moved.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, I believe both Mr. Karkaroff and I deserve a proper explanation," she said firmly.
News had spread quickly. Soon, Fleur Delacour arrived as well, followed shortly by Draco, who appeared as if by coincidence.
Dumbledore glanced briefly at him before returning his attention to the two headmasters.
"Well, all the champions are here now," Karkaroff said with a sharp tone. "That's only fair, isn't it? Otherwise how are we to compete with Hogwarts?"
"Calm yourself," Dumbledore said evenly.
"How can I possibly remain calm?!" Karkaroff snapped, though beneath his anger there was a flicker of something else—unease, even fear. He unconsciously gripped his arm.
"I believe Mr. Potter may not be telling the whole truth," Severus Snape said suddenly, appearing like a shadow behind Dumbledore. His dark eyes fixed coldly on Harry. "Perhaps another method should be used to uncover it."
Harry immediately thought of the truth serum Snape had mentioned before.
"Severus," Dumbledore said sharply.
Snape fell silent at once.
Strangely, that silence calmed Karkaroff more than anything else.
After a tense exchange, the group eventually dispersed, though Karkaroff continued to demand answers as he left.
As Dumbledore and Moody passed each other, Dumbledore spoke softly, almost to himself.
"Thank you for your efforts, Alastor."
"A bit troublesome, but acceptable," Moody replied with a grin. His magical eye twitched slightly.
—
Flashback – Before the school year
The office door creaked open.
"Albus, what's this about?" Moody stepped inside without ceremony.
Fawkes shifted on his perch near the door, his red and gold feathers gleaming.
"Alastor, sit," Dumbledore said, pulling out a chair.
It was a hot afternoon. Even Moody looked worn from travel, dust clinging to his clothes.
He dropped his staff beside the chair and sat down heavily.
"What's important enough for this?" Moody asked. "You usually send a Patronus."
"If you accept what I'm about to ask," Dumbledore said quietly, "you may die."
Moody blinked—then burst out laughing.
"Do I look like a man afraid of death?"
"I have never doubted your courage," Dumbledore replied, turning away.
"Then what's the problem?"
"If things go wrong… your death may not be honorable."
Moody shrugged. "If it's useful, that's enough."
Dumbledore hesitated, then crossed to a cabinet and retrieved a stone basin.
Inside, silver light swirled like liquid memory.
"A Pensieve," he explained.
Moody leaned closer, frowning. "Can't see through it."
"Because it is thought itself," Dumbledore said.
He stirred the surface, and the light began to spiral.
"Look."
Moody dipped his head inside.
When he pulled back, his expression had changed.
"I remember this trial," he murmured. "Crouch's son… a Death Eater. Supposedly died in Azkaban."
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened.
"What if he didn't?"
Moody's face went still.
"He escaped," Dumbledore said quietly.
Moody exhaled slowly. "And you want me to catch him?"
"No."
Dumbledore turned back to him.
"I want you to let him catch you."
Silence.
Moody stared at him.
"If you weren't Dumbledore, I'd call you insane."
"He may attack you. Use the Imperius Curse. We can use that."
Moody considered it.
Then he grinned.
"Alright. What's first?"
"Remove certain memories," Dumbledore said. "So he cannot extract them."
"And then?"
"I will place you under controlled hypnosis. You must believe the lie completely."
Moody didn't hesitate.
He raised his wand to his temple.
A long silver strand of memory pulled free.
"Like this?" he asked.
Dumbledore watched him carefully.
The plan had begun.