The Ministry of Magic, in the miserable and gloomy room with no portraits or any decorations on the wall, rows of dense benches were filled with wizards, and at the front were reporters from newspapers and magazines.

Barty Crouch stood straight not far from the judge's seat, still maintaining the decent attitude that was originally a senior official of the Ministry of Magic. The magic robe on his body was smoothed by his master. If he had not seen Albert and the other two Aurors who were fully alert behind him, he would have thought he was just here to participate in a trial rather than the subject of the trial.

There was a sound of footsteps. The door at the corner of the dungeon opened, and three people walked in - at least one of them was a human, held hostage by two dementors.

The two dementors—the two tall monsters with hooded faces—slowly walked towards the armchair in the middle, and their rotten dead hands clutched the arm of the man in the middle. The man didn't look much affected, and there was no expression on his pale face until he saw Mr. Crouch standing not far from the judge's seat, and there was no fluctuation in his eyes.

As the Dementor approached, everyone around him seemed a little timid. The Dementor put the man on a chair with chains and walked out of the room slowly, and the door closed.

The trial of Barty Crouch Jr. was both smooth and unsuccessful. What was smooth was that he accepted all the charges read by the judge. What was not smooth was that he almost didn't say a word and did not explain any details of the planning of the activity.

"I suggest taking thoughts on him or using real-life agents so that we can get more information about whether the mysterious man returns and their Death Eaters." Dumbledore stood up, his old voice becoming more serious.

"Dumbledore, please stop making such remarks, which will cause panic among the masses." Fudge lowered his voice.

"Foggy, you know, everyone has the right to know the truth." Dumbledore said calmly.

"But this will bring the magical world that has finally recovered from peace to turmoil again." Faugi's voice contained a hint of pleading.

"Fogee," Dumbledore's blue eyes looked straight at Fogee, as if he could see through his soul, "The truth cannot be concealed, and your concealment will only cause greater damage to the magic world without any defense."

"Dumbledore, who can prove that what you said is true? You have no evidence." Fudge gritted his teeth, and a blue vein stretched out on his forehead.

"That's why we need to treat him," Dumbledore pointed at the little Crouch who was locked in the chair, "using soul-sucking thoughts or vomiting real medicine."

"Sorry, Dumbledore, we can't do this. You know, both methods are easily tampered with by experts and cannot be used as evidence." Fudge stood up, and there was no longer a smooth smile on his round face. He tried to retract his shy belly and make himself look more majestic. Only the beads of sweat oozing from his forehead showed the psychological pressure he was under at this moment.

"Now I ask the jury to vote," Irving Harris exclaimed, "those who think these crimes should be sentenced to the Dementor's kiss, please raise your hand!"

After saying that, Mr. Irving Harris raised his hand himself, and the wizards on the right side of the dungeon raised their hands in unison. The audience around him clapped desperately, with a cruel expression of victory on their faces. Their relatives and friends were more or less hurt in the final a few days ago.

"You nerd!" As the two dementors walked towards the little Crouch who was tied to the chair in the middle, Crouch suddenly roared, his eyes suddenly protruded out, "I've told you to stay at home with peace of mind!"

Under the trial seat, the little Crouch, who had no emotional ups and downs, clenched his fists after hearing Mr. Crouch's words and suddenly became crazy.

"How can I feel at home, he, my master, be much greater than you! He and I have a lot in common," Crouch said frantically, "For example, we all have very disappointing fathers...extremely disappointing. We all inherited the name of our father in shame. To ensure the rise of the black demons, I can sacrifice anything, even your life!"

"You're crazy!" Crouch roared, "You're crazy!"

"I'm crazy?" Little Crouch raised his voice out of control, "Let's go and see who's crazy. The Dark Lord has returned, and none of you can escape."

The dementor had already walked to the little Crouch, untied the face towel on his head, exposed the big hole under the face towel, and leaned over to the little Crouch. The white matter floated out of the little Crouch, and turned into an airflow and was sucked into the dementor's mouth.

Professor Dumbledore turned his head unbearably.

"Did you and your wife plan the replacement idea before you judged him? If you don't care about him, why should you agree to the request of the house elf you don't even see and let him go to the World Cup to let him go?" Albert, who had been silent, suddenly asked loudly behind Mr. Crouch.

Crouch's back froze slightly, and he did not look back. He focused all on Crouch's fist, which he didn't know whether it was because his soul had been sucked away or because he had let go of Albert's words at the last moment.

"Shut up..." Unlike the usual angry tone, Mr. Crouch said in a melancholy and inaudible voice.

"It's your turn now, Mr. Barty Crouch." Fudge turned his head toward Crouch.

The trial of Mr. Barty Crouch went smoothly, and he did not protest any charges read by the judges such as helping Crouch escape from prison.

When all the judges raised their hands to vote, Irving Harris disagreed with the charge of Crouch colluding with the black wizard. Officials belonging to the Harris faction saw this and raised their hands to vote according to his wishes.

Fauci glanced at Irving Harris in surprise. He didn't understand why Irving showed mercy at this time and did not completely knock Crouch down the dust.

"I'm a good father too, right?" Irving Harris explained to Fudge.

Fudge didn't care about this anymore, but was happy to see Irving Harris's soft heart.

In fact, Mr. Irving Harris was the same. As long as this once powerful man no longer hindered the development of the power of their Harris family, he was happy to let him go. From the sentence Albert deliberately asked Crouch just now, Albert's attitude was seen. As a father, he could understand and be willing to fulfill it.

When Mr. Crouch was taken away by the dementor, Albert helped him untie the chains tied to his chair, "I will use my personal salary to keep him at St. Mungo Hospital until you are out of jail, please try to survive." Albert whispered in Mr. Crouch's ear.

Crouch opened his mouth to say something, but in the end he just nodded, then straightened his hat and walked out with the Aurors.
Chapter completed!