The unbearable pain could not stop Barty Crouch, but no matter what he tried, he could never get close to Fudge before him.
Before he lost consciousness, another beam of light shone in.
When he opened his eyes again, Fudge had already moved to the other side of the glass.
Though Fudge had his back to him, Barty could vaguely see Peter Pettigrew, bound even more tightly, trembling without stop.
"Wormtail! If you dare reveal even the slightest thing about Voldemort, I swear I won't let you die easily!"
After speaking, Barty lowered his eyes to his throat in surprise.
The throat that had been torn open by the torture device had healed. If not for the dried bloodstains on the floor, he would have thought everything that had just happened was a dream.
"Did you hear me, Wormtail? You damned coward!"
The steel fork pressed against his throat was gone, but the others on his body remained.
Outside the room,
Barty openly calling Voldemort by name immediately made Scrimgeour and the Aurors frown.
Within the Death Eaters, they generally only called him Master or the Dark Lord. No one had ever dared call him Voldemort.
The reason they avoided his true name was fear. Could Barty's relationship with Voldemort possibly be one of equals?
Scrimgeour stepped forward, opened the door, and entered the room alone.
He came before Barty and, amid the man's curses, used magic to shatter the black sleeve concealing the Dark Mark.
Judging by the traces, it had not been left recently. It had existed for at least more than a decade.
But how was that possible? Barty's body had been thoroughly examined more than once before he personally interrogated his own son back then. The Wizengamot had only chosen to believe him after confirming that