Chapter 255: plan

Krum opened his eyes, his face blank. As soon as he saw Dumbledore, he struggled to get up
"He hit me!" Krumm reached over his head and murmured, "The old lunatic hit me! I was looking at where Potter had gone, and he started fighting me from behind!"
"You lie quietly for a while." Dumbledore said kindly, without taking Krum's words.
"What happened?" Professor McGonagall wore her tall pointed hat, wearing an old style, dim gray lady's robe, and hurried to the scene, looking at Krum lying on the ground, and then Frowned and asked.
"Mileva, you should now go to Mrs. Pomfrey and ask her to make some potions to relieve the stun effect of the coma curse. Then go to Kakarov and explain to him that his student may have been attacked. I still need to check the clues here, can't get out." Dumbledore said seriously.
"Okay." Professor McGonagall nodded without asking much, then left quickly, and she immediately realized the seriousness of the situation.
Kakarov followed in a hurry, wearing a smooth silvery white fur robe, his face pale and anxious.
"What's going on?" He exclaimed Krum lying on the ground, Dumbledore and Harry were standing beside him, exclaimed, "What happened?"
"I was beaten!" Krum said, and then he slowly sat up and rubbed his head with his hands. "I heard that the person is called Crouch-that is..."
"Crouch hit you? Crouch hit you? The referee of the Triwizard Tournament hit you?"
"Igor—" Dumbledore wanted to speak, but Kakarov straightened his body, squeezing the fur robe wrapped around him, and his face was blue.
"Mrs. Maxim! Are you here too?" Kakalov's voice rose loudly, looking very deliberate, as if her arrival made her look more confident.
"Principal Dumbledore, I don't think it's just Mr. Kakalov, I also need a reasonable explanation." Mrs. Maxim shook the opal jewelry on her wrist, and said aggressively.
The situation seemed to spread faster than expected, and soon the Fleur Delacour, the warrior of Booth Button, arrived at the scene, even though she was not with her principal at the time.
As for Malfoy, "I don't know" from which channel I heard the news, and slowly walked over.
Dumbledore glanced in his direction seemingly inadvertently, and then he straightened his eyes quickly, facing the other two principals.
"Look, all the warriors are here now. Of course, only then can we foreigners be "qualified" to sing a diagonal play with you, right?" Kakarov said ecstatically.
"Calm down," Dumbledore said calmly.
"How do you want me to be calm!" Kakarov said manicly, and few people noticed a trace of anxiety and fear in his tone. He subconsciously grabbed one of his arms, as if there was something unusual.
"I think Mr. Porter probably didn't tell the truth. We might have to use something else to find out the truth." Snape suddenly pressed his oily black hair and appeared gloomy on Dumbledore's Behind him, like a black cloud, his deep eyes continued to flash a malicious light, staring closely at Harry, and he couldn't help making him goose bumps.
Harry immediately thought of the "truth agent" that Snape had threatened him in class
"Severus." Dumbledore coughed heavily, his blue eyes flashed, and Snape shut his mouth in amusement.
Snape's resignation seemed to be more effective than Dumbledore's dissuasion. When he saw Snape stopped, Kakarov calmed down his bad temper.
The people had been entangled here for a while, maybe they knew it was useless to stop here, and finally they left, but at the same time, Kakarov kept clamoring that Dumbledore must give him an explanation.
"It's hard for you, Alasto." As Moody passed by Dumbledore, Dumbledore said in a very soft voice, as if speaking to himself.
"It's a bit, but it's totally acceptable." Moody replied. The magic eye was beating happily. He grinned and seemed very satisfied.
Time goes back to when the last holiday just started.
"Albus, are there any new trends, or say... what are you looking for from me?" Moody asked openly the door of the principal's office.
Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix Fox perched on the golden perch near the door. It was as big as a swan, with bright red and golden feathers. It shakes long tail feathers
"Alasto, sit." Dumbledore drew a chair from behind him and moved to Moody.
It was a hot summer afternoon, and the outside was so hot and weary that even a few drops of sweat remained on Moody's forehead that had just come in from outside the door.
Moody threw his cane to the foot of the stool, made a rolling sound, and then sat on the chair.
The terrible evil eye looked at Dumbledore indifferently, and Dumbledore was also accustomed to it. He reached out and raised a pot of tea on the table when it was unknown, poured a cup and handed it to Moody.
"Thank you." Moody said. It was just that the old man didn't seem to be interested in such things as tea tasting. Instead, he only used him as a means to quench his thirst. .
"Well, can you tell me something now? Dumbledore? If the communication between us is not a very important thing, you usually use the patron saint to notify me, right?"
Moody put the teacup back in place.
"That's the case. Things that require you to interview me in person are definitely quite important."
Dumbledore pondered, his long silver-white beard drooping at the table, as if he was caught in hesitation, with his fingertips together and placed on the table.
"This is not your style, Albus. I think I have enough capital to gain your trust, and I have enough ability to complete the tasks you have entrusted to me."
"I still trust you more than the Ministry of Magic, and now I am no longer affiliated with the broken place full of bureaucratic smell, right?"
Moody chattered endlessly.
"If you accept my commission, you may die." Dumbledore said expressionlessly.
"Oh?" Moody's amazed expression lasted for a moment, and then the wrinkled face showed a wonderful expression, and the magic eyes seemed to pop out of their eyes.
He suddenly began to cover his stomach and laughed madly, showing a row of crooked teeth, as if he had heard a ridiculous joke. Put one hand on the table, try to support yourself not to fall from the chair.
After maintaining this state for a while, Moody looked up and put on a serious expression:
"Albus, do you think I am afraid of death? Is your hesitation just because of this?"
"I never doubted your courage." Dumbledore stood up from his chair with his hands behind his back, facing Moody, staring at the photo in front of him, showing the Hogwarts generations. Principal's photo. They are all sleeping, their are gently undulating
"No one can easily decide a person's life or death, even himself." Dumbledore sighed slowly.
"I know, you know a lot of things that I don't know, Albus, um... For example, let go of the little mouse deliberately, you have your own considerations, I will occasionally guess your thoughts myself, but not Will doubt your motive."
"Dead on the battlefield is the highest glory of Auror." Moody said.
"If accidents happen according to my plan, you may die very humiliating." Dumbledore took a deep breath.
"Humiliate, humiliate, as long as it works, I don't feel it anyway, right?" Moody began to laugh again.
"Albus, I hope you can trust me as much as I trust you." Moody's laughter gradually stopped, and the beating magic eye returned to the calmness of silence at this time.
Dumbledore turned around silently and walked to the wall behind the table. A worn, patched sorting hat rested on the shelf. In the lower right corner of the shelf, there was a glass box, which was empty. Nothing was put, but it reflected the brilliance of silver. Opposite the glass box, there was a humble black cabinet. The door was hidden, and the light was revealed from it.
Dumbledore bent down, opened the cabinet, and then took something out of it and put it on the table. .
This is a shallow stone basin with odd-shaped carving at the mouth of the basin. The edge of the basin is sculpted with Niven and symbols, which looks very mysterious. The silver glitter in the basin, the bright source is like a bright silver, but Flowing incessantly, like the water surface is rippling in the breeze, and like the clouds spread out and rotate softly. It's like light that turns into a liquid-it's like wind that solidifies.
Moody picked up his cane, stomped his wooden legs, dragged his body to Dumbledore's body, and looked at the object.
"I can't see through this thing." After carefully examining it, Moody shook his head helplessly.
His devil's eyes seemed to have failed in front of this thing. The indefinite silver matter made him dizzy. He wanted to try his best to capture something deeper, but found it to be in vain.
"This silver substance is thought, memory, Alasto. Dumbledore explained, then he took out his wand and stirred it in the basin. The surface of the silver object spun quickly. It showed a A spiraling look.
"Buy your head in and see, Alasto." Dumbledore said, and Moody's head went in when he heard the word, and the glassy substance stopped at the tip of his nose.
Moody stretched his head again, and he felt a whirl of the sky, falling in a cold and dark substance, as if sucked into a black vortex-
After a while, Moody's head slowly lifted from it.
There was no anger in his face, and he asked, "Is this your memory? Albus?"
He mumbled to himself: "I still have some impressions of this trial. My father was a majestic and just Ministry of Magic official, but my son turned to the infamous and mysterious man. It was really ironic. I heard that his son died. Azkaban? Then his wife also seems to have died because of excessive grief, right?"
"It's really pitiful." Moody shook his head regretfully. "That Crouch should be a boss who has an appetite for me."
"Show me what this means, Albus?"
"If I said Little Crouch was not dead, what would you think?"
Both the magic eye and the ordinary eyeball were immediately enlarged, and the brows were immediately wrinkled.
Dumbledore immediately said, "Everything you just received is a memory in my mind. This is called a meditation basin. Sometimes I feel that too many thoughts and memories are stuffed in my mind. Take it out of your head, pour it into this basin, and take a good look when you are free."
"Interesting thing, the effect of getting the truth feels more effective than vomiting the truth agent. As for capturing the mind, only the spellcaster can know it. If this song can be promoted during the wizard's trial, it must be very good, and the jury You can use what they see as a criterion for judging." Professionalism has allowed Moody to make some "magic" analyses of the pot in front of him instantly.
"You must voluntarily extract your thoughts." Dumbledore's words dispelled Moody's thoughts.
He can't expect criminals to repent from the bottom of his heart, right?
Dumbledore withdrew his wand from his robe and inserted the tip of the stick into his silver hair, near the temple. When he pulled out his wand, there seemed to be some hair sticking to the tip of the wand, which was actually a small strand of silver-white substance like the pot. Dumbledore added this new idea to the basin.
"This is the process of adding memories, Alasto."
"I'm not interested in these anymore. Let's get back to business, Albus, what on earth do you want me to do? Arrest the little Crouch who hasn't died? Since he's not dead, he certainly won't choose Azka Ban, it is estimated that there was some other way to escape." Moody asked roaringly, his patience was running out.
But impatiently, he had no doubts about Dumbledore's words.
"He escaped." Dumbledore nodded.
"Where is he? Any clue?" Moody asked.
"You just have to wait at home." Dumbledore's eyes flickered.
"Will he turn himself in? Will he surrender?" Moody asked incredulously.
"Of course not? I learned from some sources that he might attack you, and then use the Soul Spell to make you spit out many things."
"Oh, I don't believe that a little kid can beat me." Moody said disdainfully. In his view, this was not a threat.
"If it is a sneak attack, this is not impossible, and he may still have helpers."
"That won't happen now. I already have a high degree of vigilance, and I will be more careful all the time," Moody said.
"But what I want you to do is not to arrest him, but..." Dumbledore extended the topic, and then every time he said a word, Moody's expression became heavier and he only dipped The swirling devil's eyes fell silent and shrank back into his eyes.
Moody pondered.
"If you are not Dumbledore, I really doubt you are a lunatic."
"But, you shouldn't be a fake now." Moody's index finger rubbed his eyebrows, and then slid down to the corner of his magic eye.
"What should I do?" Moody asked hoarsely.
Dumbledore's azure blue eyes floated to the meditation basin in front of him at that moment, and he kept looking at it.
"First of all ~EbookFREE.me~ today we have conversations and memories of some previous events. Maybe you have to deposit with me for a while, Alasto, which can avoid extra information from the Soul Spell. "
"Then, I'm going to hypnotize you. The hypnotized person will firmly believe that some falsehoods are true. Before that, we only need to deceive ourselves first, then we can also deceive the enemy."
"I studied some Muggle hypnosis and verified the effect. It was very good. I couldn’t see my true thoughts in the mirror, because I convinced myself that at the time, I was I really think so."
"But there are still some uncontrollable risk factors." After Dumbledore finished speaking, he fell into complete silence.
Obviously, he had to hand over this decision to Moody's.
"What's there to hesitate?" Moody laughed, then immediately raised his wand and pointed to his bulging temple, and then a long silvery thread of memory was brought out of the tip of the stick. It grew longer and longer, and finally broke, and silver light flickered on the tip of the stick.
"Is this the first step?" the man said without hesitation.