thefictionvixens Chapter 221 Capturing the Remnant Soul: Bizarre Yet Reborn
Chapter 221 Capturing the Remnant Soul: Bizarre Yet Reborn
Chapter 221 Capturing the Remnant Soul: Bizarre Yet Reborn
Now, Moody had drunk the wine laced with truth serum, yet he still answered fluently and did not reveal the truth at all.
.
Harry, enraged by Hermione's words, spat out, "If I'd known this would happen, I would have followed my plan!"
Before Hermione or Ron could respond, he abruptly stood up and shouted, "Everyone, listen to my command! Capture this scoundrel alive!"
As soon as the words were spoken, the students sprang into action, like a pack of wolves pouncing on a lone tiger. Indeed: the magic wands whistled as they were swung, and swords gleamed menacingly.
Moody, already prepared, immediately drew his wand. He first cast an Ironclad Charm to protect himself, then unleashed a barrage of malevolent curses like venomous snakes, his roars thunderous.
"Traitors! They're all traitors!"
"You've all sided with Voldemort!"
As the saying goes, even a hero can't beat two fists, and two fists can't beat four legs. Moody, though arguably the Ministry of Magic's top Auror, how could he possibly withstand the combined attacks of a hundred or so men?
The students surged forward like a tidal wave, like tigers and wolves surrounding a deer. Ron, whose skills rivaled those of the old Auror, charged in from all sides, making him even more formidable.
Even if Moody possessed extraordinary abilities, he would find it difficult to utilize them. Within three to five rounds, the early education group was knocked to the ground.
Twenty or thirty arms pressed down on his body, his mouth was sealed shut by a curse, and his wand was snatched away by someone.
Even the prosthetic leg and the demonic eye were removed, leaving it looking like a tiger with its teeth and claws pulled out.
Hermione, stunned, exclaimed, "Harry? What, what are you doing?"
Harry didn't answer, but picked up the wine glass on the table and drank it all in one gulp.
He then strode up to Moody, clasped his hands in a respectful greeting, and said, "Professor, please don't blame me for being ruthless. It's not that we don't know our place, but rather that your illness has penetrated to the bone without your knowledge."
"Only a potent and ruthless remedy can eradicate the disease; I'll have to offend you today!"
Having said that, he drew his wand, pointed it into the air, and shouted, "Protect the Gods!"
A beam of silver light shot out from the tip of the staff, and upon landing, it transformed into a large, silver-headed, white-browed tiger with piercing eyes.
The giant worm opened its enormous mouth and spat out a cloud of black mist. The black mist churned and condensed, transforming into a chilling, hooded, face-covering demon that lured souls away.
Moody, who was being held down by the crowd, stared at the soul-devouring ghost with his one eye as wide as a copper bell, making gurgling sounds in his throat but unable to utter a single word.
He suddenly struggled with all his might, like a trapped beast fighting back, and almost overturned the men on top of him.
Hermione's mind immediately cleared upon seeing this. She knew perfectly well that Harry intended to use the Dementor to extract the lingering soul from Moody's body.
Unfortunately, although this method is ingenious, the soul-devouring monster is a vicious creature without spirit or intelligence. How can it distinguish between a remnant soul and the original soul?
Worried, she rushed forward and said anxiously, "Harry, what if the Dementors suck Professor Moody's soul out? We can't put his soul back in."
Harry chuckled upon hearing Hermione's words. "How could I forget, elder sister? Nagini has eyes that can see through the three souls and seven spirits, discerning every detail. How could she not distinguish them?"
After saying this, he waved his hand and shouted, "Go!"
The soul-stealing demon, upon receiving the order, cupped Moody's face with its withered claws, and then sucked at Moody's mouth with its dark, gaping mouth and nose.
Nagini, who was watching intently, saw that a complete soul within Moody's body was being pulled and shaken, but it was not the remnant soul of the evil spirit. He quickly spoke up to dissuade him, saying, "No, this is the complete soul."
Upon hearing this, Harry remained calm and pointed his wand at the Dementor.
The ghost paused, then released its grip, tilting its head slightly to a different angle before pouncing on Moody's mouth and nose.
Upon closer inspection, Nagini indeed saw a fragmented soul being slowly drawn out from Moody's seven orifices, and she nodded.
"You're using it correctly now."
The soul-devouring demon ate with great relish, but the remnant soul was unwilling to comply.
One of them was drawing in from the outside, while the other was hiding inside; one was determined to suck out the soul, while the other gritted its teeth and endured the suction force. They were evenly matched.
Just then, with a loud "bang," the round stone door suddenly swung open.
A man stood outside the door; it was Dumbledore, who had rushed over without having eaten dinner.
The old headmaster glanced over and saw Moody pinned to the ground by the students, with a ghost clinging to his body in a friendly embrace.
Such a horrifying sight struck even Dumbledore, a man of vast experience, as if struck by lightning, leaving him half-souled. The words that had risen to his lips vanished without a trace.
Harry spotted Dumbledore and called out, "Bring the wine with the professor!"
After saying that, a quick-witted student hurriedly handed him a glass of wine.
Dumbledore was still unsettled, took a quick sip, and couldn't taste anything special.
He rushed to Moody's side, about to ask a question, when Harry asked again, "Professor, may I have another drink?"
"Harry! I didn't come here to drink!"
Dumbledore took a deep breath and said solemnly, "I want to know why you did this."
Hermione, seeing that Harry was completely focused on controlling the Dementor and didn't want to be distracted, led Dumbledore aside.
She recounted in detail how Moody had been framed and how a remnant of a soul was hidden within him.
Upon hearing this, Dumbledore stood there stunned, speechless for a long time.
He hesitated several times, then finally sighed, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Although Harry was using his powers to cast spells, he could hear clearly and immediately replied, "How can the professor not know the principle of avoiding suspicion?"
'
"This Moody is an old friend of yours. I fear that you might be swayed by personal feelings and hesitate to act on your impulses, thus jeopardizing the greater cause of eliminating evil!"
Dumbledore's face fell, and he said dejectedly, "Harry, is that what you think of me?"
Harry glanced at him sideways and asked in surprise, "Why do you ask, Professor? How could you say you didn't have ulterior motives when you placed that scoundrel Grindelwald in the school?"
These words hit the nail on the head, like a flying knife piercing Dumbledore's heart, leaving him speechless and unable to utter a word.
Just as the two were talking, strands of soul energy flowed out from Moody's seven orifices, and like a whale sucking water, it all disappeared into the mouth of the Soul-Stealing Ghost.
At his side, Rowena took a specially made piece of parchment from her bosom and tossed it to Harry, who caught it in his palm and held it out to the Dementor.
Although the ghost was reluctant to leave, it ultimately dared not disobey. It lowered its head, exhaled silvery breath, and slowly transferred the remnant soul from its mouth onto the paper.
The moment the remnant soul entered the parchment, it instantly solidified into the appearance of a young man.
His face was fairly neat, but his eyes and brows were full of madness. He was pounding his chest and stamping his feet on the paper, rushing left and right like a headless fly that couldn't find a way out.
Harry sneered at the figure on the paper, "You scoundrel, today I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget!"
He then dismissed the Boxers, took out a truth serum from his pocket, and poured the small amount of water inside onto the paper.
Harry immediately shouted, "You little rascal, state your name now! Are you one of Voldemort's lackeys?"
Forced by the effects of the drug, the person on the paper, though with a ferocious expression, uttered a string of words as clear as ice crystals, each word distinct and utterly calm.
"That's right, I am the master's most valued follower, my name is Barty Crouch."
Upon hearing this title, the expressions of the people in the secret room all changed.
Ron gasped, exclaiming, "You're Barty Crouch's Death Eater son?"
"Weren't you already dead in Azkaban?"
Readers have heard that old Barty Crouch, despite his previous act of sacrificing his own family for the greater good, personally threw his own flesh and blood into Azkaban.
Sadly, his wife was soft-hearted; ever since young Barty went to prison, she had spent her days in tears. Her cries were filled with anguish, her words heart-wrenching.
As the saying goes, no one is perfect, and everyone makes mistakes. Although Barty Crouch was a fair and just man, he was also a deeply affectionate husband.
Seeing his wife growing increasingly haggard, he ultimately couldn't bring himself to be cruel, and was heartbroken by her whispers in his ear. After much deliberation, he finally devised a plan to deceive everyone.
On the day he visited Azkaban in prison, he secretly brought two cups of compound decoction, instructing the mother and son to drink them when they met.
The little cup held the mother's black hair, while the old lady's bottle contained the bones and broken hair of her children. In a mere moment, their appearances were switched; it was truly a case of substitution, so subtle that even gods and ghosts could not detect it.
Little Barty, bearing his mother's face, left the prison. The poor old lady suffered in place of her son, and died in prison less than half a year later. But that's another story.
Now, this unfilial son, forced by the truth-revealing potion, though his eyes are full of resentment, still keeps talking, recounting the secrets of the past one by one.
"The Dementors are blind; they smell a healthy man and a dying man entering Azkaban, and they smell a healthy man and a dying man leaving Azkaban."
"After I returned home, my father controlled me with the Imperius Curse, forcing me to wear an invisibility cloak from morning till night and only having house-elves for company."
Upon hearing this confession, Harry was so enraged that his three internal organs flared up, his teeth grinding together and his eyes blazing with fury.
He immediately cursed, "Damn it! I knew Barty Crouch wasn't up to any good, but those blind fools at the Ministry of Magic are worse than Dementors, letting this guy get away with it!"
He then shouted again, "You wretched creature! Were you the one who caused trouble during the Quidditch World Cup wearing an invisibility cloak, you little rascal?"
"What scheme is that scoundrel Voldemort plotting now? Tell me the truth!"
The little badi's soul trembled on the paper, its eyes filled with resentment, yet it still spoke like a puppet on a string.
"We caused a commotion at the World Cup camp to lure you away, so that our master could take the fragment of his soul that he left in your forehead."
"Death Eaters willing to follow their master mobilized, but they still failed, so I came to Hogwarts—"
"I want to make sure you participate in the Triwizard Tournament, win the championship, hold the trophy that has been turned into a key, and then be teleported into the trap set by your master."
Upon hearing this, Harry suddenly understood.
No wonder Moody was so anxious when he shattered the golden egg himself; it turns out he was secretly under Voldemort's orders to protect him and help him win the Triwizard Tournament.
"Now I have a question!" Moody snapped out of his daze, grabbed the prosthetic leg from the ground, put it back on, and stumbled to his feet. "How did you get inside my body?!"
The little Buddy grinned and said in a strange way, "It's very simple—the master has already obtained the authority of a god, so dividing a soul is a piece of cake for him—"
"I originally planned to use Compound Potions to transform into your likeness, but my master said that Potter has a map that can see through disguises, so he had me hide in your mind—"
"That map doesn't show me as a parasite, but I can slowly influence your subconscious—once you're asleep, I can even replace you—"
Upon hearing this, Harry suddenly remembered that in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he had used the Imperius Curse to subdue Moody, only to have him break free in the blink of an eye.
It turned out that this little bastard had taken advantage of the situation and possessed the body.
Thinking of this, Harry couldn't help but sneer, "That Voldemort, how meticulously he planned! He even knows exactly where I am, with my Marauder's Map!"
"That was made by the traitor Peter Pettigrew, of course the master would know."
Little Barty replied to himself, "Master also said that you can become invisible and create illusions, so he helped me modify Moody's Magic Eye so that it could see through your disguise—Master used the part of his soul that belonged to you."
At this point, the truth became clear, and all the confusion was resolved.
While everyone was still pondering Barty's words, Harry reached into his pocket, pulled out two pieces of paper, and presented them directly to the remnant soul.
"You thieving prisoner, open your dog eyes and see clearly. That day, what was that name card you threw into the Goblet of Fire?"
Barty looked closely and realized, "I submitted the paper that said Harry Potter."
Harry nodded upon hearing this, then crushed the name card with a flick of his fingers and tossed it aside. He remained staring blankly at the card in his hand, its handwriting crooked and bearing the name "Harry".
He thought to himself: the UMNO cast one ballot, the Death Eaters cast one ballot, but they still don't know who cast the third ballot.
He pondered this for a long time, but still couldn't figure it out. Just then, Dumbledore slowly approached, took a breath, and said, "Harry, can you hand over Barty Crouch Jr. to me?"
"I think maybe we can catch Voldemort through him."
Harry thought to himself: I should ask as soon as possible. I am not good at interrogation, and this guy is just a remnant soul. I can't use any cruel methods. It's better to hand him over to the professor.
He immediately replied, "If the professor wants this fellow, then take him. But there's one thing you must agree to: during the interrogation, you must allow me to listen in."
Dumbledore nodded without hesitation. "No problem."
Just as he was about to take the parchment, Hermione suddenly spoke up: "Wait, Professor Dumbledore, I have another question to ask."
She strode up to Barty Jr., squinted, and asked, "If I remember correctly, you just said that all the Death Eaters went to the World Cup camp to lure Harry?"
"Since you've all been mobilized, where did you get the manpower to go to Nurmengard and interrogate them about the whereabouts of the Elder Wand?"
Little Barty tilted his head and slowly opened his mouth.
"The master never sent Death Eaters to attack Nurmengard."
The story goes that the White Demon King, having misplaced his sincerity, was in a state of extreme anxiety and worry, hastily welcoming back an old friend. The Black Demon King, however, was cunning and deceitful, a master of lies and deceptions, fond of using self-inflicted suffering as a ruse. This sincere devotion turned to illusion; even the wisest could not distinguish truth from falsehood. To find out the truth, please read the next chapter.