You Can Spit on His Grave

A swift surge of Magic Power swept across Hampstead Garden on the outskirts of London, across the wizarding village in Wiltshire, England, across the low woods near the lake to the west of the village, and finally stopped in front of the gates of a long-closed, desolate Castle.

A crisp crackling sound echoed across the open grassland, and the tranquil space suddenly expanded and blossomed. A passage resembling a cave entrance suddenly appeared in the air, and the distorted passage expanded and contracted, revealing the figures of Loren, Winky, and Winky.

Following closely behind was Hermione was still somewhat confused.

Hermione was still a bit dazed, her thoughts still lingering on what had happened a dozen minutes earlier. After finishing breakfast, she barged into someone's bedroom as usual, only to be caught red-handed by a wizard and two House-elf. She was then unwittingly fed a second, luxurious breakfast and subsequently taken to this Castle.

"This... is Mr. Crouch's residence?"

Hermione blinked and whispered in Loren's ear, "Loren, why did you come all the way here?"

"To help Winky completely leave the past behind and embrace a new life," Loren coughed, seemingly finding the explanation rather unconvincing, and said softly, "Voldemort may have hidden here for a while. Let's look for clues about Horcrux..."

Since entering first grade, he and Dumbledore have found five of the seven Horcrux: Ravenclaw's Diadem, Tom Riddle's Diary, Gaunt's Ring, Hufflepuff's Goblet, and Harry's, while they have also made progress on finding Slytherin's Locket.

But the Blood-Cursed Serpent was an exception. Before Nagini was made into living Horcrux, Dumbledore led him to find her in the Albanian Forest, thus creating a vacancy.

Rather than the number of Horcrux decreasing by one, he was more inclined to believe that Voldemort would create a new Horcrux, Horcrux he was unaware of...

Winky didn't hear their whispers. Looking at the seal on the door and the Ministry of Magic's notice, tears welled in her eyes again. Her voice was high-pitched and sorrowful. "Yes, this is Crouch Manor. Winky's mother worked here her whole life, and Winky's mother's mother was honorably buried alongside Mr. Crouch, whom she served... But when it came to Winky, everything changed. Winky feels ashamed before them..."

Hermione had already learned of her current attitude while having breakfast, and gently advised in a low voice, "Hogwarts is a good place, isn't it? Perhaps your children will take you as a role model in the future, even if they don't work at Hogwarts."

Winky shook her head, tears dripping down her pointed nose.

Loren looked around at his surroundings and saw an ancient and mysterious Castle.

It is said that this is a wizard village where Pure-blood Families live together. Many families of the Twenty-Eight Pure-Blood Families have their own mansions here, watching over and helping each other, and jointly maintaining the glory of Pure-blood.

Crouch House is located on the west side of the village, surrounded by a tranquil environment. A gently flowing stream, lush green groves, and towering walls and towers isolate the Castle from the outside world. A straight stone path leads to the main gate from the vast green space, giving the whole place a sense of seclusion.

If a guest with whom you are not so close comes to visit, standing in front of these tall doors, you may feel a sense of distance, and you may wonder to yourself whether you are close enough to the Castle owner and whether this visit is appropriate.

After surveying the surroundings, Loren turned his gaze to Winky. Although the House-elf was still crying and whining after expressing his desire to stay at Hogwarts, he didn't do anything else unreasonable.

Loren knew she had grown accustomed to the paid and holiday-filled life at Hogwarts, but some of the long-held beliefs about serving the Crouch family since her grandmother's generation still lingered in her mind. Crouch's death, in fact, provided the opportunity to completely abandon them.

He thought for a moment, then half-squatted down, looking directly into her Winky eyes. "You only know the news of Barty Crouch's death, you probably don't know the details, do you?"

Winky immediately stood up straight and shrieked, "Mr. Crouch is definitely not Death Eater. He has always been dedicated to his work at the Ministry of Magic, and Winky can guarantee that!"

"And what about Barty Jr. Crouch.?"

Loren saw the pupils in the other person's large eyes suddenly contract, and the self-righteous expression froze on the House-elf's face. He shook his head and continued, "You should know perfectly well how Mr. Crouch. and Mrs. Crouch. Crouch managed to deceive everyone and replace the Death Eater son who was serving time in Azkaban. You also witnessed Barty Jr. Crouch. taking advantage of the chaos on Quidditch night to seize the wand and unleash the Dark Mark. Winky, after all, you were expelled because of a mistake in your care..."

Winky's breathing became labored; she barely dared to breathe under the gaze of those dark eyes.

Loren didn't continue to interrogate the Crouch and her for their mistakes. He simply glanced at the sealed gate and said calmly, "But there are many things you don't understand either."

Hermione followed his gaze, surveying the entire Castle. A complex light flickered in her eyes. Winky seemed confused, her expression blank.

"On the night you were expelled by Crouch, Barty Jr.. broke free from the control and restraint Crouch had long exerted on him, but instead of running away, he returned to Crouch's mansion..."

Loren glanced at Winky, then stood up, took Hermione's hand, and walked forward. With a light tap of his wand, the seal fell off completely and naturally, landing lightly on the ground, and the door opened with a click.

"He found the master he had longed for, and together with Voldemort, he attacked Crouch, turning his own father into a vessel for Voldemort's Wraith... until the Resurrection Ritual was successfully carried out, Crouch's flesh and Magic Power became nourishment for Voldemort's new body, and then his body was abandoned in the wilderness."

"Master Barty, Master Barty..."

Winky shook her head, trembling, and staggered after the two into the Castle. Winky lagged behind, her fist-sized eyes gleaming with thought.

Loren and Hermione entered the Castle. A thin layer of dust covered the furniture and floors. Exquisite crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, but they had no shades. The oil in the lamps was murky, and the cords had burned down to a small, black residue. The ashes in the fireplace were a mixed mess.

"It seems like no one has lived here for a long time. Come to think of it, since the Triwizard Tournament, Crow... Voldemort hasn't returned." Hermione looked around, piecing together the information revealed by these traces. "It seems the last time someone entered was when Ministry of Magic officials came to seal off the Castle ..."

There was a series of fresh footprints on the floor leading to other rooms, stretching upwards along the steps, the footprints neat and straight, with a clear purpose.

"That should be true..."

Loren's gaze moved between the remaining lamp oil in the lampshade and the ashes in the fireplace, noticing faint creases on the sofa. He tried to reconstruct the actions of the Castle's inhabitants during their final moments in his mind, but failed to find any information related to Voldemort.

Unfortunately, too much time has passed, and there is no residual Magic Power information. However, many magical items were discovered, but none of them were related to Horcrux, and there were not even any Dark Arts items.

"Winky ... Winky has never let Crouch family's Castle be covered in such a thick layer of dust."

Winky sobbed, snapped her fingers crisply, and a brand-new, dry rag suddenly appeared in mid-air, as if she was about to get to work.

"Don't do anything unnecessary." Loren shook his head, grasped her wrist, and advised slowly, "According to normal procedures, the Ministry of Magic should have summoned you for questioning when investigating the Crouch father and son's case, but some people were eager to make a decision, so they didn't notice you, a key witness... You've spent some time in the Ministry of Magic's interrogation room, do you want to experience it again?"

Winky wiped her face, her eyes gleaming. "If it could restore Mr. Crouch's reputation..."

You're overthinking it.

Loren interrupted the House-elf's reverie, "Barty Crouch was identified as Death Eater not because no one came forward to vouch for his reputation, but because someone wanted him to be Death Eater."

Hearing Loren's blunt and cruel words, Hermione's eyes showed a hint of pity, and she gently squeezed his hand.

Just as Winky Shan was suffering internally, a questioning voice came from behind:

Who are you? What are you doing here?

The Witch, no longer young but still lively, came running over with quick steps, clutching a bunch of poppies tightly in her hand. Her blonde hair swayed from side to side with her unladylike gait. This universally disliked female employee of the Ministry of Magic curiously and impetuously approached. "Are you also here to pay respects to Mr. Crouch?"

Hermione and Winky both recognized Bertha Jokins, but their memories Qidian from different points: one from the Quidditch World Cup camp 10 months ago, and the other from this Castle several years ago.

Loren carefully observed her condition, and it was not difficult to tell from her questions and expressions that Miss Jokins had completely forgotten about them.

"Miss Jokins?" Winky murmured absently, staring at the poppy in her hand.

"You know me?" Bertha Jokins' eyes lit up with surprise, but then she sighed in disappointment and began to blame herself. "It seems you all know me, but I don't remember who you are... I'm so sorry, my absent-mindedness is notorious in the Ministry of Magic. My second cousin told me it might be a symptom of early-stage Alzheimer's."

She rambled on for a while before slowing down and nodding apologetically to the group. "Could you please introduce yourselves again? I'll try my best to remember this time!"

Hermione recalled Loren's earlier speculation and pursed her lips, "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Loren Morgan. We've met at the Quidditch World Cup camp and in the boxes..."

"Quidditch World Cup ..." Jokins first made a face as if trying hard to recall, but when he realized it was no use, he began to stare at the two faces and repeatedly mutter their names. After a long time, he finally nodded vigorously, "I remember, Hermione Granger, Loren Granger, let's go pay our respects to Mr. Crouch!"

Loren and Hermione exchanged a glance, their minds racing with conflicting thoughts.

A startling light shone in his Winky eyes. "A memorial service? Has Mr. Crouch been buried? Where is he buried?"

"I remember that! He was buried under the apple tree next to the stream..."

Bertha Jokins, sounding quite pleased with herself, pulled Hermione toward the Riverside Woods to the right of the Castle. "I asked several people, and repeated the same questions many times. They all got impatient, but Mr. Weasley was willing to repeat them until I remembered them."

"Mr. Scrimgeour. Rufus Scrimgeour—it was our Head of Auror Office who ordered his burial there, saying the flowing water would wash away his filth, but many people actually suggested burying him directly in Little Hangleton..."

The group followed her toward the Graveyard. The lawn was overgrown with weeds and wildflowers because it had been neglected for a long time. Jokins seemed to enjoy the soft feel of the grass under his feet and even hummed an off-key Funeral March.

Hermione even wondered if she had forgotten the meaning of death.

Loren watched Jokins ' retreating figure with a complex expression.

Winky's expression became even more complicated. She opened her mouth, then stammered, "Miss Jokins... why did you come to pay your respects to Mr. Crouch?"

"Because he's been very good to me!" Jokins blurted out without thinking. "My memory is terrible, I'm always forgetting things, and I'm not very capable either. I've rotated through every department in the Ministry of Magic, but no superior wanted to have a subordinate like me. Only Mr. Crouch always encouraged me and was willing to persuade them to let me stay in the Ministry of Magic ..."

Her memorial service was as simple and straightforward as her memories: she placed a slightly disheveled bouquet of poppies in front of the tombstone and whispered, "I will miss you, Mr. Crouch, if I remember..."

Winky slumped in front of the tombstone, wailing "Mr. Crouch" and "Master Barty," sobbing uncontrollably.

Standing side by side with Loren on the bank of the creek, Hermione gazed at the simple tombstone in the distance. She knew very well that the new grave held the remains of a diligent and conscientious Ministry of Magic employee, a hero who, in turbulent times, had used ruthless methods to punish evildoers and protect the people under pressure, and a father who had been murdered by his son in collusion with a dark wizard...

But looking at Bertha Jokins's back, I felt no admiration or pity.

She should spit on his grave.

"Miss Jokins, please come here for a moment, let me take a look at this..."

Jokins walked over, puzzled, and followed Loren's gaze to the flowing stream. The not-so-calm water barely reflected her image, the light and shadow shifting and slightly blurry.

The boy was standing right next to me, but his voice seemed to come from a very distant place, indistinct yet reaching the depths of my mind. "Memory is like a flowing stream. When a section is blocked, the source becomes stagnant water, and the flow is cut off. So you need to clear the blockage little by little."

"What?" Jokins asked instinctively.

The voice chuckled softly, "You'll have nightmares for a while now, but don't be afraid."

A pebble was thrown into the stream.

The sound of the water was crisp and clear.