Not in this room?

Harry narrowed his eyes and stared at him, saying nothing.

"He's really not here." The werewolf exclaimed in panic.

The other werewolves followed suit and testified.

Harry waved his wand and used a levitation spell to lift him up, dragging him out of the room amid the exclamations of others.

In the next room.

Unlike the quiet and dull place on the other side, it was bustling here. There were only a dozen Aurors, but more than a hundred werewolves. It would be a waste of time to interrogate them one by one.

Harry walked in.

"You've finished that?" Scrimgeour asked in surprise.

Harry didn't say anything. He turned his head to look at the werewolf floating beside him and asked, "Is there any here?"

The werewolves looked over one by one, their gaze stopped on one of them, and they nodded quickly, "Yes!"

He raised his hand with difficulty and pointed at someone: "It's him."

A werewolf who had not had time to be interrogated by the Auror shuddered and buried his head deeper.

Harry put down the werewolf beside him, flicked his wrist, and the werewolf flew towards him.

"Is there any information about him?" Harry looked at Scrimgeour.

Scrimgeour waved his wand, and a thick stack of documents in his hand rustled, and one sheet flew out and floated towards Harry.

Harry grabbed it.

It's a simple resume.

This was a werewolf who had been registered with the Ministry of Magic, Leon Morris. He was born in 1952 and was already in his forties, but he looked older than Professor Slughorn, McGonagall, and Sprout.

"Maurice." Harry lowered him to his front and tied him up with ropes. "What did Crouch tell you?"

Maurice shuddered and buried his head in the grass.

Harry waved his wand.

An invisible force twisted Morris's head, forcing him to lift it up and look Harry in the eye.

Capture the mind and thoughts.

He whispered the spell and peered into Morris's mind.

Scrimgeour glanced away, pretending not to see it. The Ministry of Magic has always been extremely strict about this kind of spell that invades other people's souls, thoughts and memories. Unauthorized memories that are spied on, or unauthorized testimony induced by the use of truth serum, are all invalid, and the user must be convicted.

But this is Harry...

Not Dumbledore.

It's better when you can't see it.

In memory.

Harry saw Barty Crouch Jr. again, his weary, paler face.

In a dim and lightless environment.

The werewolves have human bodies, but they live like real wild beasts, huddled in places called houses but more like dens.

Morris went over and greeted Crouch flatteringly: "Mr. Crouch, you're back so soon?"

Crouch nodded and took out a potion from his pocket: "This is a potion that my father researched. It can expel lycanthosis."

Morris took it happily and was about to unscrew the cork.

The other wolves pricked up their ears and looked over, their eyes full of desire.

Crouch held his hand down: "Now is not the time to open it."

Morris looked up blankly.

Crouch continued, "This potion must be used during a full moon."

"When the moon is full, before you transform, light the potion. The burning flame, together with the purifying power of the moonlight, will completely burn away the lycanthropy in you."

Morris nodded heavily: "I understand, Mr. Crouch."

"How's the recruitment of the werewolves going?" Crouch asked.

Morris lowered his head, looking somewhat embarrassed: "I'm sorry, Mr. Crouch, even the great Dark Lord can't summon so many..."

He held the potion tightly in his hand, his body trembling, ready for the punishment of the Cruciatus Curse.

Crouch spoke gently and shook his head gently: "It doesn't matter. I can understand this situation."

Morris looked up and looked at him in surprise.

This is... Crouch?

The Crouch who would cast the Cruciatus Curse on them if they disagreed with him?

"Gather as many werewolves as possible." Crouch seemed not to notice Morris's gaze, and his tone was still gentle. "No matter what method you use, the time is the full moon. When is it this month? Or is it next month?"

"The 25th of this month," Morris replied.

Crouch nodded. "Then call them over on the 25th."

"This bottle of magic potion is enough to cure thousands of werewolves of their lycanthropy."

Morris was surprised: "Even those werewolves who are not prepared to surrender to their master can be rid of the curse?"

"Of course." Crouch nodded, "This is my father's sincerity to you."

"Father is in great need of a group of loyal and reliable friends right now."

Morris nodded excitedly, his voice solemn and serious: "The master's greatness and kindness will surely be understood by others."

Crouch raised his head, his eyes seemed to penetrate Morris's head, and penetrate the other people in the room, groping and wandering, as if searching for something.

Harry knew he was looking for him.

Crouch's gaze finally returned to Morris: "I hope you like this gift."

Morris was surprised and excited, and cheered like a child: "Of course, I like it very much, Mr. Crouch, I like it very much."

Harry looked at him calmly, staring at Crouch as he walked out of the room, before he waved his wand, flicked it gently, and continued reading Morris's memory.

From that day on, Crouch disappeared from his life.

Only occasionally would the werewolf be mentioned, but when one thought of his Cruciatus Curse, the topic would be quickly brushed aside.

"You are so naive." Harry came out of his memory and looked at Morris.

Morris looked gloomy and said nothing.

He was not as naive as the other werewolves, thinking that Harry had come to disrupt their treatment. Instead, he realized at the first moment that this was Crouch's conspiracy. All the strange things in the past conversations that he had not realized but existed, all emerged before his eyes one by one.

yes……

How could such a cruel and heartless man become so gentle?

How could the profit-seeking Death Eaters be so selfless as to give away something that could be used to blackmail them for free?

"Is there any way to contact Crouch?" Harry asked him, and glanced at his left arm, which was empty, with nothing on it.

Morris shook his head. "No, we always wait for Mr. Crouch to contact us."

He looked sad, and there was no trace of life in his tone: "We are just werewolves, lowly werewolves."

The righteous wizards do not accept them.

Even if they are in league with evil wizards, they are still captive dogs.

Harry nodded and waved at Scrimgeour. "Deal with it as it should be. I have to go back to school."

He had no mercy on these people.

As adults, they should be responsible for all their actions and they know exactly what they are doing.