When Maurise arrived at the Headmaster's office, he found it remarkably crowded.
Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Ludo Bagman were all present. Even Cornelius Fudge and Bartemius Crouch Sr. were there.
The corpse of Barty Crouch Jr. was laid out directly in the center of the room. Mr. Crouch stood rigidly beside it, his vacant gaze fixed on his dead son like a stone statue.
Without a doubt, they were all here because of what had transpired last night.
Maurise strolled into the office with an air of complete nonchalance. Naturally, everyone's eyes immediately snapped to him.
"Ah, the man of the hour," Ludo was the first to stand up, his voice practically vibrating with urgency. "Maurise, was it really you who caught this Death Eater?"
Clearly, Dumbledore had already briefed them on the situation.
"Yes," Maurise nodded.
"This is utterly bizarre," Fudge frowned deeply, wringing his lime-green bowler hat. "Barty Crouch Junior... this man should have died in Azkaban! He did die, over a decade ago! How on earth did he come back from the dead?"
He looked at Maurise as if hoping the teenager possessed some miraculous answer.
Maurise merely spread his hands. "I wouldn't know." He could certainly rule out himself as the cause, considering he was barely a toddler a decade ago.
Just then, the office door clicked open again.
Another person entered the room. It was the real, newly-rescued Alastor Moody.
Moody had been reunited with his magical eye and wooden leg, but he still looked to be in dreadful shape. His complexion was a sickly gray, and his good eye flitted between sharp clarity and glazed disorientation.
Following Barty Jr.'s death, the Imperius Curse holding Moody had automatically broken. However, the prolonged exposure had left severe lingering effects that would require significant time and rest to fully heal. Fortunately, unlike the Cruciatus Curse, the aftereffects of the Imperius Curse weren't overly detrimental; the victim primarily experienced severe mental fog and confusion.
"Moody!" Professor McGonagall cried out in surprise. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine," Moody grated out, his voice hoarse and labored. "I figured I was needed here, so I managed to wheedle the password out of the school matron."
Dumbledore turned his gaze to Moody, his voice gentle. "My apologies for not allowing you to rest immediately, Alastor. Tell us, what exactly happened to you?"
Moody stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, seemingly organizing his fractured memories.
"I was ambushed," he finally said. "Shortly after I accepted the teaching post at Hogwarts."
"And the one who ambushed you was Barty Crouch Junior?" Fudge asked instantly.
"I believe so," Moody continued. "Along with Wormtail. Peter Pettigrew, that escaped convict. I caught a glimpse of his face in the chaos. They launched a coordinated assault against me... Perhaps retirement has made me careless. Ten years ago, they never would have succeeded."
Fudge let out a long sigh. "Right. I understand."
Moody's account still hadn't answered the most pressing question on Fudge's mind: 'How on earth did Barty Crouch Junior escape Azkaban?'
Fudge turned his attention to the silent Mr. Crouch. "Barty, did you truly have no idea your son was alive? And that he had escaped to attack Alastor Moody?"
In his mind, as the boy's father, Crouch surely had to know something about this.
Crouch's expression was incredibly heavy and profoundly sorrowful.
"I did not know," he shook his head slowly. "In fact, I myself was placed under the Imperius Curse not long ago. I have been constantly fighting to break free of it. Aside from that, I know absolutely nothing."
'A shining example of filial piety,' Maurise thought cynically. 'Using the Imperius Curse on your own father... Are you sure he's not adopted?'
Fudge fell silent upon hearing Crouch's statement, deep in thought.
Crouch might very well be lying. However, with Barty Jr. dead, there was absolutely no evidence to prove it.
"Cornelius," Dumbledore suddenly spoke up. "Why do you suppose Barty Junior would disguise himself as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and infiltrate Hogwarts?"
"Who knows?" Fudge fidgeted nervously with the brim of his hat. "Perhaps to sow chaos, perhaps to steal something of value. But he is dead now, so it hardly matters."
Dumbledore was clearly dissatisfied with this answer. He shook his head. "It is blindingly obvious that this was part of a larger conspiracy."
Professor McGonagall suddenly gasped, looking as though she had just been struck by a curse, her face draining of color.
"It's Harry Potter!" she blurted out. "He was after Harry's life!"
"But that doesn't make any sense!" Ludo interjected. "Harry is perfectly fine, isn't he? If Barty Junior wanted to kill Harry, he had countless opportunities to do so over the past few months, yet he never made a move."
"Which leads me to believe he had an entirely different objective," Dumbledore said slowly. "Such as... utilizing Harry to resurrect Lord Voldemort."
He spoke with an eerie calm, yet the color drained from the faces of everyone else in the room.
Fudge, in particular, reacted violently. He stumbled backward several steps, his eyes wide with stark terror, looking as though he had just seen a ghost.
"Do not joke about such things, Dumbledore!" he shouted, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "That is utter rubbish! You-Know-Who... it is completely impossible for him to—"
"Indeed," Dumbledore cut him off smoothly. "It is merely a hypothesis."
He looked at Fudge with an unreadable expression, as if he had seen right through the Minister's fragile bravado.
Maurise felt Fudge's reaction was a bit excessive. Dumbledore had only mentioned Voldemort's name; was there really a need to freak out like that?
Fudge quickly gathered his shattered composure.
"Let us leave it at that," he said stiffly. "The Aurors will conduct a thorough investigation, and all the details will be brought to light. Barty, we should be going."
Crouch looked up, appearing as though he wanted to say something, but ultimately just gave a curt nod. He stared at the floor, his jaw tight. "I must take care of... this body first."
"Go on, then," Fudge said.
Barty Jr.'s eyes were still wide open. As Crouch hoisted his son's corpse into his arms, the dead man's head lolled limply to the side, coming to rest staring directly at Maurise.
Maurise couldn't help but shudder. Those bulging, lifeless eyes were genuinely unnerving.
Fudge and Crouch quickly vanished through the office door. Ludo, apparently eager to escape the tense atmosphere, offered a hasty goodbye and scurried out right behind them.
Maurise, however, was in no rush to leave. He casually reached into a bowl on Dumbledore's desk and popped a Sherbet Lemon into his mouth. He needed a little sugar to soothe his nerves.
Professor McGonagall stepped closer to Dumbledore and said in a hushed tone, "Fudge will undoubtedly try to cover this up."
A Death Eater who supposedly died in Azkaban over a decade ago miraculously resurrecting and infiltrating Hogwarts? This was a catastrophic scandal for the Ministry of Magic.
"Without a doubt," Dumbledore replied, a trace of weariness in his voice. "Cornelius will never allow such a thing to become public knowledge. But that is of secondary importance. Our immediate priority is discovering Barty Junior's true purpose for infiltrating the school."
He turned his gaze slowly toward Maurise. "What are your thoughts on the matter, Maurise?"
Maurise paused mid-chew.
"Me?" He pointed a finger at his own chest and shrugged. "I know absolutely nothing about this."
He had absolutely no intention of getting tangled up in this mess.