In Little Hangleton Village, a fire that burned overnight gradually disappeared in the morning fog.
Officer Frey pushed open the door of Riddle House and led a group of police officers and sheriffs inside.
Behind the iron gate, only a few burnt black ruins remain of the once magnificent old house.
There seemed to have been an explosion here. Frey noticed that broken stones and remains of the fireplace were scattered away from the door. It looked as if they had been violently attacked by artillery fire. But what was even more strange was that there was nothing but an unpleasant burning smell all around.
Besides, there is no smell of gunpowder or gasoline.
"Go look inside—"
Frey gestured towards the team members behind him, then turned to look at the Sheriff not far away.
"You said before that you first heard a loud noise inside last night, and then saw the fire coming out of Riddle House, right?"
"That's right," the Sheriff nodded, "About two or three in the morning, old Frank came to knock on the door and said he saw a group of extremely dangerous people breaking into the Riddle House. Just when I asked him for details
, there was a loud noise halfway up the mountain - it seemed like something exploded, and more than once - and then the Riddle Mansion caught fire. I had never seen such a raging fire, and it engulfed the house in less than two or three seconds.
It took over the whole house.”
"No one ran out from inside? Did you see anyone else? This is the only way down the mountain, right?"
Officer Frey tapped the pen in his sketchbook and was about to continue digging for clues when his eyes suddenly stopped not far away.
A man wrapped in a black windbreaker was walking towards them along the only mountain road. Without even asking the sheriff, it was obvious from the man's high-collar windbreaker that he was out of tune with Little Hangleton, and
Based on Frey's intuition, that guy was obviously coming towards them.
"MI6, Kingsley Shacklebolt, we will take over this case from now on."
The man walked up to Frey and the others, took out an ID from his arms, showed it, and said neatly.
"As for my identity, you can ask your boss to call our department and call 62442 to inquire - I hope you can provide incident records, oral descriptions, and preferably important witnesses and assistance in collecting physical evidence...
…In addition, since this incident involves the threat of a national-level terrorist attack, before the end of our operation, I hope that you can cooperate with the work and not spread it around for the time being..."
The "MI6" member who calls himself Kingsley has a deep, slow voice that can calm people down.
Although Frey had never come into contact with MI6 before, he had heard of their name for a long time.
"I understand, I'll make a call first -"
Frey frowned heavily and glanced at Kingsley Shacklebolt's dark, serious face.
As a veteran policeman who has been working for decades, although Frey has some big cases that unfortunately got passed away, he knows better that some things are beyond his level. Handing them over now is better than being handed over one day later.
It is better to turn it into a hornet's nest and hand it over as a relic.
On the other side, while Frey was on the phone to check, Kingsley turned around and walked next to the Sheriff and Old Frank.
The same set of identity introductions and very standardized case inquiry procedures are still the same.
The only difference was that when he heard the name of the "butler", a flash of shock quickly flashed across his dark and calm face.
"Barty Crouch? I understand -" Kingsley pondered for a few seconds, "We have to leave for London immediately. The matter is more serious than we thought. This... well, Mr. Frank, is very
Sorry, you may have been involved in an extremely complicated and dangerous incident."
"I can't answer your questions for the time being, but I can tell you with certainty that you can get all the answers in London."
"At that time, you just need to truthfully describe everything you saw and heard as you did before..."
Kingsley paused for a moment, then turned to look at the middle-aged police officer on his right who put down his phone and walked over.
"Hello, do you have any questions?"
"Judging from the current situation, my best answer is 'no', right?"
Frey shrugged his shoulders and put away the phone in his hand, "I don't want to get into trouble, so I'll leave it to you, Mr. MI6——"
"Thank you for your understanding. Just fill in the police report truthfully. I am not 007, I am just an unlucky guy who wants to drink coffee like you."
Kingsley smiled and nodded at the middle-aged police officer, speaking very naturally, and his tense nerves relaxed.
It is obvious that even if the Ministry of Magic suffered a sudden attack, some of its previous cooperation with the Muggle government remained unaffected.
Or to be more precise, compared to the Ministry of Magic, the Muggle government is much more reliable in this regard - without this relationship, it would be difficult for him to have important witnesses appear at the right time according to the "original plan"
The right place, and lead to the right reasoning.
…………
Old Frank thought he had seen enough strange things.
However, he was convinced that what he was experiencing was definitely the most bizarre experience in his life.
After the man from MI6 wandered around the village for a while, they got into a black car parked at the entrance of the village.
An old man with an extraordinarily long beard sat in the back seat of the car, and the old man told him a strange story about magic.
Old Frank naturally would not believe these children's bedtime stories, but when he opened the car door and rolled out while these people were not paying attention, he found that the dirt road outside was no longer the gravel road in Little Hangleton Village - he came to a
A bustling modern city with many tall buildings and asphalt roads everywhere.
"Here we are, Mr. Frank. Welcome to London."
The old man walked out of the open car door and stretched out his hand to help old Frank, who had fallen down on the roadside.
"I'm very sorry, these things are really difficult to accept. But time is urgent, and we have to use the fastest way. If you still have any doubts and worries, we can accompany you to the London City Political Security Department first. But after that
, we'd better go to the Ministry of Magic quickly. Something extremely terrible happened last night, and everything you witnessed and heard can be said to be the most important evidence to help us clear up the fog."
"So...this is really magic?"
Old Frank murmured and touched the cold stainless steel street light pole next to him.
Not far away, the sky was still slightly bright, there were not many people on the streets, and most of the shops had not yet opened for business.
"Well, whether you are from the Ministry of Magic or MI6... you are the ones who can solve the problem, right?"
Obviously, there is nothing more "magical" than the fact that it takes more than ten minutes to cross half of the UK.
Even though Old Frank's mind was still a mess at this time, deep down in his heart, he had to begin to accept a fact:
He may have really met a magic wizard, and there is a magical world outside the ordinary world.
The most important thing is that these people are willing to believe what he says. This alone is enough to make Old Frank make up his mind.
…………
British Ministry of Magic, temporary inquiry room.
Frank Sr. tried his best to suppress his racing heart and walked into the room.
The Ministry of Magic had obviously received the news in advance, as the circular room, which was not spacious, was filled with people.
There was a single high-backed chair in the center of the room. Old Frank knew that it was reserved for him without asking - I have to say that this made him slightly uncomfortable. But he quickly relaxed because the
The old wizard with a long beard also sat down next to him.
"Relax, Mr. Frank, we don't mean to interrogate you."
The old wizard took out a small wooden stick (Frank had just learned that wizards called that a magic wand) and waved it, conjuring a chair out of thin air.
At the same time, Kingsley walked up to Cornelius Fudge and whispered something in his ear.
"This is no joke-"
Cornelius Fudge's expression suddenly changed and he lowered his voice and spoke.
"This is a very serious, very serious accusation and you should know what it means..."
"Yes, it is precisely because of this that I have to tell you in advance -" Kingsley Shacklebolt said, his eyes scanning the temporarily tidied room, as if searching for someone, "So
, Mr. Minister, do you think we should call that gentleman as well?"
"...No, don't act rashly just yet."
Cornelius Fudge was silent for a moment and tapped his fingers on the armrest.
"Kingsley, go find Mr. Scrimgeour. As for that person, you first find a way to keep an eye on him."
"Okay, Mr. Minister." Kingsley nodded and quickly walked out of the room with a serious expression.
…………
A moment later, Rufus Scrimgeour opened the door and walked in.
Mad-Eye Moody followed closely behind, both of them looking a little ugly.
"Very well," said Cornelius Fudge. "Now that everyone is here, let's get started. Is that okay, sir?"
"No problem, Mr. Minister——"
Dumbledore said gently, crossing his slender fingers and looking at the lame old man next to him with his blue eyes.
"But I hope that after the interrogation is over, the Ministry of Magic can send one or two Aurors to temporarily protect Mr. Frank - his unfortunate life in the second half of his life was brought about by magic. I hope we can make some changes in the way we work. You
You know what I mean, about the Forgetting Curse..."
"Thanks for the reminder. When everything is over, I know how to arrange it-"
Cornelius Fudge said angrily, looking at old Frank a few times.
"So……"
"Cough, cough - sorry, I have a proposal."
At this moment, Mad-Eye Moody suddenly interrupted Fudge somewhat abruptly.
His blue magic eye was still staring at Old Frank, but his normal eye turned to Connelly, who was sitting not far away.
"We don't have much time to identify lies. If possible, I would like to apply for the direct use of Veritaserum - Mr. Frank obviously does not have the ability to deceive the drug. Compared with repeated questioning and confrontation, I think this may be a more efficient method.
, a credible way of asking.”
"Veritaserum?" Old Frank frowned and looked at Dumbledore next to him inquiringly.
"A magic potion that prevents you from lying for a period of time after taking it."
Dumbledore explained softly, patting the old man's shoulder, "Don't worry, no one can force you to drink any potion if you don't want to." Dumbledore shook his head at Moody as he spoke.
, "Alastor, this is not an interrogation, I think..."
"Are there any side effects?" Old Frank suddenly asked.
"No, but-"
"Well, so, as long as I drink that 'truth serum', they will 100% believe the content of my answer?"
"Theoretically, that's true, because you don't have magic power and can't interfere with the effect of Veritaserum."
"alright, I got it--"
Old Frank looked around at the wizards around him and raised his eyebrows.
"I can take your veritaserum, if you think this is worthy of belief..."
He almost understood the current situation. Those sitting at the other end of the room were obviously important figures in the magical government.
Although I don't know how wizards usually view ordinary people like him, they will definitely not be easier to convince than the police - he is tired of repeating stories over and over again and then being questioned.
"Uh, of course, of course...it's best this way."
Cornelius Fudge was stunned for two seconds, then nodded quickly.
If it's just Voldemort's true identity, his conspiracy, family background, or who he killed decades ago...
These contents have no special significance to the Ministry of Magic. At best, they are evidence of Voldemort's return and that tonight's attack was indeed launched by the Dark Lord and his men - but if there are other things involved, then
It’s different.
For example...
Cornelius Fudge watched Old Frank drink the Veritaserum, and first asked a few questions to verify his name and address.
Obviously, as a Muggle, old Frank had no power to resist the magic potion.
However, Cornelius Fudge was not curious about how many women the old guy had had.
"So, Mr. Frank..."
He swallowed nervously and asked softly.
"You just said that a few months ago, a man who called himself 'Tom Riddle' butler came to the town and bought the Riddle House in Little Hangleton Village for his 'master'. Do you still remember him?
His name, and what he looks like? And everything you heard last night..."
"certainly--"
Old Frank replied firmly.
"Barty Crouch, that's what the Sheriff said before."
"As for his specific appearance, and everything I heard last night..."
Following the old man's calm tone without much fluctuation, the expressions of all the wizards present suddenly changed.
…………
At the same time, the Crouch family mansion hundreds of miles away.
Thick fog silently enveloped the house, seeping in little by little along the door and through the cracks in the windows.
A few minutes later there was a clatter in the hall, as if something small had rolled off the table and onto the floor.
"The target is confirmed to be unconscious, the second group takes action."
Several men in black looked at each other, took out their wands and gently opened the locked door.
On the living room floor, a small body lay unconscious.
The man in black stepped lightly over the small body, raised his wand and patiently groped and searched in the surrounding air, and finally stopped in front of a sofa at the back of the living room. A layer of transparent invisibility cloak was gently lifted by them.
, under the invisibility cloak, is a man who has fallen into a coma.
If old Frank were here, he would be horrified to find that this man is exactly the same as the man he is describing.
"Tsk, how pitiful..."
The leading man in black carefully compared the man's appearance and waved his hand.