Chapter 370 Moody (Modified, Thanks to Huan Yu, the Author of "I'm Really Not the Rich 2")

"Barty Crouch Jr.." Allen determined the identity of this person with certainty.

Using perception magic, he searched using Crouch's information and the Moody's hair he had just obtained.

The result that appeared on the light curtain was Moody who hurried from the hospital to his office.

Then Moody is Little Crouch in disguise, it is already certain.

As little Crouch regained his true appearance, the hair of Allen's scouting magic ceremony also changed from blond to brown.

Barty Crouch Jr. looks so much like his father, Mr. Barty Crouch.

It's just that their expressions are very different. Mr. Crouch has a serious face, while this little Crouch has a stubborn fanaticism even in his hair.

He kicked off the artificial leg impatiently, with cruelty and madness in his eyes, then supported the side of the box with his hands, and jumped to the bottom of the box neatly.

Hearing the sound, the real Mad-Eye Alastor Moody, who was lying motionless on the ground, opened his eyes. His description was in a state of distress, and black blood stains almost covered half of his face.

He squinted his eyes and looked at Crouch's messy hair, "Have you been plucked?"

He laughed wildly while coughing violently.

Little Crouch was obviously irritated, he strode towards Moody who was curled up on the ground, and kicked him hard.

Moody uttered an inarticulate curse, which made Crouch's expression even more hideous.

He drew out his wand, pointed it at Moody, "Crucio."

Moody gritted his teeth, endured the pain like a knife, and lay there dead.

Little Crouch's eyes gradually became crazy, "Crucio."

Moody couldn't help snorting and making meaningless noises, his body convulsed with extreme pain and restraint.

His fists were clenched tightly, his pale nails and fingers stained with red spots - but as a man who was very famous in the seventies and successfully led all the Aurors who became Death Eaters back to their right path. A gold medal Auror, obviously this level of Cruciatus Curse is not fatal to him for the time being, in fact, most of the injuries he has suffered are a direct reflection of this will.

"Alan Harris, when my master returns, I must ask him to hand you over to me, and then I will pull out all your nerves and turn you into a living puppet. You can't live or die. .”

"Alan Harris? Ha, ha, you can't even beat a Quidditch player, and you still want to make trouble under Dumbledore's nose. I'm waiting for you to be executed by the dementors!" Moody hysterically laughed out loud.

"You give up, my master has a lot of Death Eaters, I will find a suitable helper."

Crouch delivered another Cruciatus, then ignored Moody, who was shaking with pain, and returned from the box to the office.

He picked up a curved bottle and took a swig, and gradually he became Moody again.

Allen got the answer he wanted, and also lifted the perception magic, and left the perception room.

In the lobby on the first floor, he saw his mother and sister unexpectedly.

They were talking excitedly around an old-fashioned bronze trumpet phonograph.

"Mom, Daisy, why do you have this phonograph?" For a moment, Allen seemed to see the phonograph in the Response Room when he was studying "The Secret of the Soul".

"Hermione's parents sent Dobby home as a gift in return. Daisy thought the phonograph was more suitable for this hall, so we moved here. It is said that it is still an antique in the Muggle world, and it was made in France!" Morgan Le Fay laughed. .

"The French EMI brass trumpet flower hand crank gramophone, produced in 1910, has a long history, but it is really beautiful!" Daisy likes this ancient feeling.

"Why don't we listen to its sound effects?" Allen picked up the black film next to him and put it on the phonograph.

The melody of steel and softness flows out, and the violin leads the melody in a high-pitched and restrained way.

Like a woman stepping on a tango dance, with noble steps and a disdainful attitude, she is entangled in her dance partner whether she wants to welcome or refuse.

"Tango music "por una cabeza". When I was at Hogwarts, I listened to Professor Caredi Bubbaji from the Muggle Studies class play it." After Daisy finished speaking, she couldn't help humming softly along with the music.

Allen flipped through the films, which contained a lot of jazz music and tango music. It seems that Hermione's dentist parents are more emotional.

"Maybe I will dance to the music at home while my daughter is in Hogwarts." Allen couldn't help but speculate a little jokingly, "But it seems that Hermione didn't have a younger brother after that. Sister?"

After calming down and enjoying a few more tracks, Allen said hello, left the tower, and returned to Hogwarts.

A feather letter suddenly appeared in front of him.

Allen opened the envelope and pulled out the phoenix tail feathers from the letter.

"White chocolate magic bar." No words other than that.

Allen immediately understood that this was the password to enter the principal's office.

After checking the time, Alan walked directly to the principal's office.

"White chocolate magic stick." After Allen finished speaking, the ugly stone beast guarding the principal's room jumped aside, and Allen jumped onto the automatic rotating escalator.

Allen held the brass door knocker in the shape of a griffin and opened the shiny oak door.

The fine silver was again on the slender-legged table, spinning silently and puffing smoke. Framed portraits of headmistresses and headmistresses of yesteryear, their heads lolling back in armchairs or leaning against their sides.

"Alan Harris, what brought you here? I want to thank you for rehabilitating my useless great-great-grandson and leaving hope for our Black family." Phineas was uncharacteristically lazy He put on a pose and said seriously.

"You are polite, Sirius has already given me enough reward." Alan responded politely, and did not lose his manners because the other party was just a portrait.

Bright green flames burst out suddenly from the empty fireplace, and Dumbledore's tall figure emerged from the fire.

"Good evening, Alan. Maybe we need some custard biscuits and white chocolate magic bars." Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and invited Alan to sit opposite the principal's long table.

Allen watched the two kinds of food fly to the long table, but he had no appetite at all.

Allen looked at Dumbledore suspiciously, and Dumbledore looked calm as if he hadn't noticed Allen's probing eyes.

"Mr. Harris, the board of trustees has no right to punish the professor." Dumbledore commanded a shiny silver iron pot to fly up, and automatically poured two cups of pumpkin juice for them.

"Just as professors have no right to physically punish students." Allen picked up the pumpkin juice, sniffed it lightly, and drank it down.

"Let's not talk about these meaningless things." Allen pinched a brown hair and put it in front of Dumbledore.

"This is—" Dumbledore adjusted his glasses.

"Professor Moody's hair, or Barty Crouch Jr.'s hair." Allen looked at Dumbledore's expression solemnly, obviously the other party would not show such an expression just because of a Death Eater, but rather I thought of the deeper meaning contained in it.

"He infiltrated the school with an obvious purpose, Harry." Allen stared at Dumbledore.

Those custard cookies and chocolate bars were forgotten.

"You know the curse that uses the blood of the enemy to resurrect, right?" Allen told the other party the answer directly through the question.

"Of course, he must want to use the Three Witches Tournament to keep Harry out of my sight. He must want Harry to participate." Dumbledore folded his hands and supported his chin.