Chapter 657：

"Longbottom will become the king's sword!"

Lucius also stood up.

Malfoy was once a symbol of seeking good fortune and avoiding disaster in the wizarding world.

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

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

"Our battlefield has begun. We will go to the world to preach the mercy of the King."

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

Mr. Weasley looked at this group of people and it seemed that he was really wrong.

What he thought was rotten was inadvertently changed by Him.

The present ancient alliance.

The current king.

Mr. Weasley put his hand on his heart.

"I'm proud of you, Percy."

…

Chapter 671 Little Barty, hesitant

Little Barty used all his strength to apparate.

Under gunfire, he fell 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 fell down unable to support himself.

He held the wand tightly in his hand.

With the biting winter coming 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.

With the palm that was as warm as before, he stroked little Barty's thin cheek.

"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, the 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 that you are 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 said softly, "I have always known it."

"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 cuts in.

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.

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

He had been disappointed when he saw 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 heart called father 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 most deeply bound.

He said with his father's insincerity: "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 stronger and wanted to take my parents away.

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

He is getting closer and closer, and he will enter 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.

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

"My son," Old Batty put down his sternness 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. You need to enlighten him, just like he enlightened 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.

There was a tear in the corner of his eye.

Feel the moisture on your face.

He opened his eyes.

A magnified furry face in front of him was licking his face.

Little Barty looked at the wand in his hand.

That dream was extremely real.

Reach out and push the furry face away.

That’s a little snow leopard.

And its family is watching here 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 hurriedly ran towards his family.

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 has been sitting there for several days.

During this time, more and more people came.

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

Tabloid reporters dare to be angry but dare not speak out.

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!"