Barty Crouch Jr. had chosen suicide with absolutely chilling decisiveness.
It wasn't hard to guess how he had done it: he must have activated a curse long embedded within his own body.
Staring down at the lifeless corpse on the ground, the group fell into a heavy silence.
The visceral reality of death was always terrifying. Watching a living, breathing person violently end their own life right in front of them was undoubtedly shocking, even if that person was a Death Eater.
Fleur took a step back, hiding behind Madame Maxime. The massive headmistress gently patted her on the back in a comforting gesture.
Fred and George were stark pale, looking toward Dumbledore with deep unease.
Maurise, however, was lost in thought.
Barty Jr.'s suicide unequivocally pointed to one thing: whatever scheme he was involved in, it was something Dumbledore absolutely could not be allowed to uncover. Combining this with his identity as a Death Eater... could it have something to do with resurrecting Voldemort?
Of course, this was merely an unfounded hypothesis on his part.
"What should we do now?" Maurise asked, looking at Dumbledore.
In truth, everyone present was hoping Dumbledore would take charge, as he was naturally the pillar of their group.
Dumbledore's expression remained perfectly serene as he carefully observed Barty Jr.'s state.
He spoke quietly, "I need to see what spells he has cast recently. Maurise, do you still have his wand?"
Maurise tossed Barty Jr.'s wand over. Dumbledore caught it with the swift, precise agility of Viktor Krum snatching a Golden Snitch.
Dumbledore then drew his own wand, pointed it at Barty's, and cast Prior Incantato—a spell that forced a wand to reveal echoes of the most recent spells it had cast.
The very first echo to materialize was the Killing Curse.
As the horrifying, unmistakable emerald green light flared within the mist of the Prior Incantato charm, everyone involuntarily held their breath.
Dumbledore flicked his wand again. "Deletrius."
The glowing mist vanished.
"How on earth did you survive that curse?" Fred asked Maurise, his voice hushed and tentative.
"I was prepared," Maurise answered calmly. "I simply dodged it."
A cold sweat had broken out on George's forehead. He clapped Maurise on the shoulder but said nothing.
Maurise then walked over to Fleur and offered a sincere apology. "Fleur, about the ball—"
"It is alright," Fleur interrupted him gently, her voice barely a whisper. "Now is not the time for that."
Her gaze drifted past Maurise, landing briefly on the unmoving corpse slumped against the stone pillar before quickly darting away.
How could Maurise remain so unbelievably calm after experiencing something like this?
At that moment, the shadow ropes left behind by Cinder dissipated. With nothing supporting it, Barty Jr.'s corpse slid the rest of the way to the ground, crumpling into a heap.
A thought suddenly struck Maurise. He turned to Dumbledore and asked, "Professor Dumbledore, since this Moody was an imposter, where is the real one?"
He couldn't be dead, could he?
Dumbledore didn't answer immediately. He crouched down and began swiftly searching through Barty Jr.'s robes.
A few seconds later, he pulled out a large, heavy ring of keys.
He stood back up and rapidly issued instructions to those gathered around him.
"Madame Maxime, please escort Miss Delacour back to the Great Hall. This matter will be resolved shortly, so there is no need for undue worry. I will contact the Ministry later to issue a formal statement."
Madame Maxime nodded, her massive hand resting gently on Fleur's shoulder. Fleur cast one last, worried glance at Maurise before following her headmistress out of the courtyard.
"Fred, George," Dumbledore turned to the twins. "Find Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Tell them to meet me in Moody's office immediately. Do not alarm anyone else."
He paused, then added, "If you happen to see Madam Pomfrey, please ask her to come along as well."
"Understood, Professor." Fred and George exchanged a quick glance, turned on their heels, and sprinted back into the castle.
The courtyard fell silent once more.
"What should we do with this body?" Maurise asked.
"Let us leave him here for now," Dumbledore said. He raised his wand and pointed it at the corpse.
In the next second, the body began to blur, eventually vanishing completely from sight. He had cast a Disillusionment Charm on it.
"Professionals will arrive to examine him shortly," Dumbledore said. "For now, come with me."
He led Maurise straight to Moody's office.
The door was locked.
"Alohomora."
Dumbledore flicked his wand, attempting a standard Unlocking Charm.
The door did not respond. It had clearly been warded with specialized protective magic.
Dumbledore frowned slightly. Without uttering a single incantation, he gave his wrist a sharp flick. A blinding flash of silver light struck the wooden door directly in the center.
BOOM!
The door did not merely open; it shattered into dozens of pieces, crashing violently to the floor.
The corner of Maurise's mouth twitched slightly. Although Dumbledore wasn't actively showing it, Maurise could tell the Headmaster was genuinely furious. And highly irritable.
The two of them stepped over the splintered remains of the door and entered the office.
Almost simultaneously, their eyes landed on a massive, seven-locked trunk sitting in the corner of the room.
"Right there," Maurise said. It was the only place large enough to hide a human body.
Dumbledore didn't need the reminder. He quickly walked over, crouched down, and began testing the keys he had found on Barty Jr.
Fascinatingly, every single key on the ring seemed to unlock the trunk, but each key revealed a completely different interior compartment.
Books, Sneakoscopes, quills, assorted knickknacks...
After trying what felt like half the keys, the trunk finally opened to reveal something entirely different: a gaping, pitch-black pit.
The space below was massive. In the dim light, they could barely make out the silhouette of a human figure lying at the bottom.
Dumbledore waved his wand, and the figure slowly floated up from the darkness.
It was the real Alastor Moody.
His face was gaunt and sunken, looking severely malnourished. A significant chunk of his grizzled hair had been hacked off. His signature magical eye was gone, leaving a gruesome, empty socket in its place.
"It seems Barty Junior did not bother feeding him very much," Dumbledore noted, a distinct sigh of relief in his voice. "But he is alive."
Maurise nodded and asked, "So, when exactly was Professor Moody swapped out?"
"I suspect he was replaced before he even arrived at Hogwarts," Dumbledore answered, his gaze fixed on Moody's shorn hair.
Maurise didn't know what to say to that. After all this time, the real Moody hadn't even managed to officially start his job.
Just then, the chaotic sound of numerous footsteps approached from the corridor.
Professor McGonagall, Snape, Madam Pomfrey, and the Weasley twins all burst into the room.
"Madam Pomfrey, Alastor is in your hands," Dumbledore said. "He has been subjected to the Stunning Spell and the Imperius Curse, and he has likely caught a bit of a chill."
"The Imperius Curse?!"
Madam Pomfrey gasped. She immediately bustled forward and began efficiently running diagnostic spells over Moody's prone form.
Professor McGonagall stood in the center of the room. She glanced back at the completely obliterated door and asked, "Albus, what on earth happened here?"
Dumbledore looked at Maurise.
His meaning was clear: You explain.
Thus, Maurise immediately launched into a detailed recount of everything that had transpired.
...
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