I wield a sword at Hogwarts

"Longbottom will become the king's sword!"

Lucius also stood up.

Malfoy was once a symbol of the wizarding world.

But now, the head of the family said: "The Malfoy family will fully support Lord Wick. Even if it costs us death, it will not make us cowardly."

"Strength is supreme, everyone," he glanced at the heads of the family present and said, "Escape means abandoning the glory of the ancient clan. It's time for us to fight for the king."

"Our battle has begun, to go out into the world and proclaim the King's mercy."

The family heads present stood up, including Bosted from before.

Mr. Weasley looked at the group and saw that he was really wrong.

What he thought was rotten was inadvertently changed by Him.

Now the ancient alliance.

The current king.

Mr. Weasley put his hand on his heart.

"I'm proud of you, Percy."

…

Chapter 671 Little Barty, hesitant

Barty Jr. used all his strength to apparate.

Under fire, he crashed into the Himalayas.

Everything around is deserted.

"Father."

He fell to his knees, his internal organs bleeding from the impact.

Coughing out a mouthful of bright red blood, he looked at the wand in his hand.

Tormented in his heart, he collapsed unable to support himself.

He held the wand tightly in his hand.

As the biting winter came at night, he gradually fell into a deep dream.

dreaming.

He saw his mother.

Little Barty's last impression of his mother was that of a haggard face.

But here, he saw his mother's health.

Mrs. Crouch stood in the desert. She walked slowly over and squatted down.

He stroked little Barty's thin cheek with his palms that were as warm as before.

"my child."

"Mother."

Little Barty asked in the most cautious voice: "You are serious, right?"

"Yes." Mrs. Crouch smiled with tears in her eyes. "You have suffered a lot."

A sudden word of concern and long-lost maternal love.

Little Barty burst into tears and curled up his body.

"Why?" he asked, "Why, I want to survive."

He roared: "Why don't you just let me die like that, let me die in Azkaban!"

The only thing that responded to him was his mother's tightly held hand.

"I am a stupid person, I miss you very much, mother." He cried wildly in his dream.

He missed his mother, the pampering that could be infinitely tolerant, and the way she would caress the snowflakes on his shoulders and tell her to be safe.

He was greedy and wanted more.

His mother's care was not enough, he also wanted to prove himself.

Prove yourself to be a child who makes your father proud.

He went astray and joined Voldemort when he was at his most glorious, but fell into the abyss in a short period of time.

He failed to prove his achievements and his father sent him to Azkaban.

His mother died in prison to save him.

Why is this happening?

"It's because I'm not firm enough," he said tremblingly. "I shouldn't be afraid of death. I shouldn't beg you, mother."

He began to talk nonsense, holding on to his mother's hand and pleading: "Take me away, mother."

"We can be reunited and I can see you again, mother."

He had been holding it in for too long, and it had been like this since the day he learned of his mother's death.

It was not Mrs. Crouch who died in prison, but Barty Crouch Jr.

He was buried in the abyss and could not come out.

"No, kid." Mrs. Crouch gently removed the grass stuck to little Barty's hair with her hands, "You should go back."

"No, I won't go back, mother," little Barty said anxiously, "I want to leave, it's too painful here."

"You have always been a hard-working child," Mrs. Crouch whispered, "I always knew that."

"At home, I have been working hard to prove the Crouch in me." She shook her head gently and said softly, "It was Crouch who restrained you, you should let it go."

"I can't do it, mother."

Barty Jr. shook his head repeatedly, "I am Crouch, the son of Barty Crouch."

"I never made him proud."

"No, you make me proud."

A voice interjected.

Little Barty looked up blankly.

He saw it, saw his father.

The best Minister of Magic in a century.

Old Batty walked out of the white light and walked to his wife's side.

Looking at his son, Old Batty sighed: "I was wrong."

"I never knew I was suffocating you, my son."

Excellent old Batty took his son's excellence for granted. He completely forgot that father is father and son is son.

Keeping that pride deep in his heart, he naturally felt that his son knew it.

He had been disappointed, he had seen his proud son join the Death Eaters.

He was confused, why was there such a big problem in his education?

Amid his wife's pleading, his father's heart was shaken.

But fearing that something might happen to his son again, he chose the worst option.

Barty Sr. looked at his son. Barty Jr., who had tried his best to get rid of Crouch's name, was the one who was bound the most.

With a father's insincerity, he said: "You are my pride, my son."

A generous palm fell on the thin shoulder, and a trace of distress flashed in Old Batty's eyes.

"Father..." Little Barty murmured to himself.

The burst of white light became so intense that it threatened to take the parents away.

"No, don't leave me!" He quickly got up and chased after her.

He is getting closer and closer to entering the white light with his parents.

But two hands stopped him.

"We love you, son." Old Batty shook his head, "You don't belong here, you should go back."

"There is no place for me there."

Little Barty insisted on going over, but Old Barty said: "What about John Wick?"

Little Barty paused.

Batty Sr. continued: "He needs someone now, and you need to save him, just like he saved you."

"My son," Old Batty put down his severity and shook his head with a smile, "You regard him as a guide, I have always seen it."

"John needs help, he's on the edge right now, and you need to enlighten him as much as he enlightens you."

The white light has enveloped the Crouch couple.

A gentle push with two hands, but with infinite power.

"Go be yourself, put Crouch down and do what you want, son."

The white light disappeared in front of his eyes, and little Barty stopped.

A tear fell from the corner of his eye.

Feel the moisture on your face.

He opened his eyes.

An enlarged furry face in front of him was licking his face.

Little Barty looked at the wand in his hand.

That dream was so real.

He reached out and pushed the furry face away.

That's a little snow leopard.

And its family is watching from a distance.

Little Barty looked at the big snow leopard, but the big snow leopard remained motionless.

When the little Snow Leopard saw little Barty waking up, he ran towards his family in a hurry.

The big snow leopard licked the little snow leopard's head, glanced at little Barty, turned around and left with the little snow leopard.

Watching the snow leopard drift away, little Barty sat there motionless.

It wasn't until the snow leopard was completely invisible that he lowered his head and looked at the wand.

"John Wick needs me."

He staggered up and walked towards the mountains.

…

Kingdom of Bhutan.

John had been sitting there for several days.

During this time, more and more people came.

Rita snatched the quill from the person next to her, broke it and threw it to the ground.

Tabloid reporters dare not speak out if they dare to be angry.

As the editor-in-chief of the largest newspaper, the Daily Prophet, Rita is the ceiling in front of these news media people.

"Oh my God, Gilderoy Lockhart!"