Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0612 Their Conversation (LARGE-CHAPTER)

0612 Their Conversation (LARGE-CHAPTER)

Moody's mouth opened and closed wordlessly as he gazed upon Watson's calm yet resolute face. His jaw worked, lips pursing and unpursing as he struggled to form a response. Finally, he lowered his head, eyes fixing on the bulging money pouch clutched in Watson's outstretched hand.

"No, I can't, Watson—" Moody retreated two uncertain steps, his face was twisting with inner turmoil. Refusal flashed like lightning in his real and fake eyes. But there was also a flicker of longing which was quickly suppressed. "This has nothing to do with you, Watson. You don't need to do this—"

"Gold galleons should be in the hands of those who need it. For me, it's just a pretty collection gathering dust. I can't remember the last time I had use for my money pouch—" Bryan held out the pouch insistently, giving it a little shake. The coins within clinked and clattered.

"Take it, Professor. Consider it a heartfelt donation from me to those retired veterans who have sacrificed so much. Honestly, I've donated to St Mungo's in the past, but it seems the galleons weren't put to their full decent use. In that unfortunate case, I'd much rather give the money directly to those who need the help."

As he spoke, Bryan thought he glimpsed, deep within those eyes disguised as blue, another pair of pupils. They flickered with touching light, at odds with Moody's scarred face. It was there and gone in a flash.

Cliodna disguised as Moody's expression also underwent subtle changes, but regrettably, that scarred and rough face couldn't make very delicate expressions. If forced, it would only appear particularly hideous and ugly. Bryan couldn't stand to watch anymore. He directly tossed the money pouch into Moody's arms.

"I believe you still have many vital things to attend to, Professor Moody, so please don't waste any more of your valuable time here on my account. When you take your leave, I would greatly appreciate if you could remember to close the door behind you. You have my deepest gratitude—"

Bryan turned away, no longer looking at the figure before him who seemed to waver between two identities. He pulled open a desk drawer, rummaging within until he retrieved a design diagram covered in dense, spidery magical runes and nodes.

This was the design blueprint for the revolutionary learning machine's core efficiency module. Bryan was close to a breakthrough on cracking it. Once he succeeded, Remus's team could quickly begin mass production of the learning machine and launch widespread promotion to bring it to the masses.

The money pouch clutched in Moody's hand was bulging. The special weight-reducing charm permanently attached to the pouch still functioned well, but to Cliodna, the bag felt incomparably heavy in her grasp.

She looked down at the pouch, inner torment and pain reaching a crescendo. A nearly overwhelming desire to throw the pouch away and flee this place, to escape from this dangerously perceptive man, scratched frantically at her nerves like a rabid beast.

"You're a good person, Watson. I can well understand why Albus admires you so very much—" Moody said to Bryan in an extremely hoarse whisper quite unlike his usual tone.

Bryan, focused intently on the complex diagrams, couldn't suppress a shudder upon hearing this. Without raising his head from his work, he replied in an equally soft murmur, "The last poor fellow who said those exact words to me ended up in a ward at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for a full six months. Professor Moody, do you perhaps wish to follow in his unenviable footsteps?"

Moody's mouth twitched but he said nothing more. Tucking the money pouch into a pocket, he turned to leave with thumping steps. But after only a few paces, his forward momentum slowed and stopped. Shoulders suddenly tense beneath his heavy cloak, Moody turned to once more face the concentrating Bryan.

"I have a question to put to you, Watson—" His growling tone was careful.

"No need to stand on ceremony, Professor Moody. Feel free to ask what you will—" Still Bryan did not raise his head with quill scratching across parchment.

"I've found myself increasingly curious about a certain matter, Watson—" Moody was speaking in a slow, exaggerated tone, as if deliberately emphasizing something. "These ingenious surveillance mirrors you've invented using Omnicoculars - would they perhaps function underwater as well?"

Bryan finally put down his quill. He slowly raised his head to look at Professor Moody standing in the center of his desk. His casual expression and nonchalant tone were as if discussing with someone when the snow outside the window would finally stop.

"Why do you ask, Professor Moody? Is there some matter I should be aware of?"

"Your surveillance mirrors performed spectacularly in the first competition, greatly enhancing the viewing experience for spectators. If they could also be utilized in the next two competitions, that would be great. You understand my meaning, Watson. The second competition is underwater. If your surveillance mirrors can't be put to use, then the people coming to watch will just have to stand foolishly by the lakeside—"

"Heh heh—" Bryan watching Moody suddenly chuckled. "And here I thought my efforts to maintain the secrecy around the tournament details had been rather effective. I didn't expect you to be so well-versed in the contents of the upcoming competitions, Professor Moody."

"Ah well, you know how it is," Facing Bryan's meaningful remark, Moody still calmly said, "I've worked for the Ministry for most of my life, Watson. Although I'm retired now, I'm afraid I have more friends in the department than you do. I don't have to inquire. They also deliver those interesting news tidbits to my ears—"

"Barty will certainly fly into a rage if he knows the department employees are rushing to leak key information—" Bryan laughed again. He inserted the ink-dipped quill back into the inkwell, his gaze falling on Moody once more.

The two men's gazes intersected in midair.

"No. It's useless—" After a long time, Bryan said softly, "Except for air, the presence of any medium will greatly interfere with the transmission of the magical field. Underwater, my invented surveillance mirrors are useless—"

"Ah—" With their gazes still entangled, Moody said, "That's really regrettable. People will be very disappointed."

"Who can say otherwise—" Bryan replied.

After another period of silence, Moody nodded at Bryan. "Thank you—"

Click— Between the opening and closing of the office door, the cold wind seized its chance to enter. Bryan, his hair messy, slowly sat down as his gaze fell on the design diagram before him.

After a while, Bryan turned his head to stare out the window, one hand resting on his brow, gently massaging the tightly wrinkled area with a trace of melancholy expression.

The office, reduced to a single occupant, remained silent for a long time without any sound. Although the heat radiating from the fireplace made the room's air warm, for some unknown reason, it inexplicably exuded a chilling desolation.

In the far distance, a black dot suddenly appeared against the pale sky. Amidst the howling gale at high altitude, the trajectory of this black dot's drifting was erratic, yet it still tenaciously fought the cold wind, striving to approach the castle.

An owl spread its wings and skimmed over the gradually freezing black lake. As it flew over the children's heads, it let out several piercing cries.

This owl was obviously familiar with the castle. Passing over the grounds, it didn't pause to discern but dove straight toward a certain room on the third floor of the castle.

Bang, bang, bang— Although staring at the world outside the window, Bryan's thoughts were wandering until he heard the knocking sound. Only then did he discover an owl was attempting to break into his office outside his window.

Bryan raised an eyebrow and hurriedly stood up, walked to the window, and opened it to let the owl in.

This gray owl had probably been frozen stiff. It didn't wait for Bryan's invitation before jumping into the office itself. After hopping around and surveying the surroundings, it came to the fireplace and spread its wings, borrowing the flames to warm its nearly frozen wings.

Bryan was amused by this owl which was as unrestrained as its owner. He chuckled and opened his water cabinet, taking out a few pieces of pastry to exchange for the envelope tightly grasped in the owl's beak.

"Is Sirius doing well?"

"Coo, coo—" Focused on basking by the fire and pecking at food, the owl lazily hooted a few times.

This languid owl made Bryan's mood slightly better. He stroked the owl's head, then opened Sirius's letter, no longer paying it any mind.

The letter paper was short. The letter of only a few lines made Bryan's expression turn solemn. After pondering by the fireplace for a long time, he nodded to the owl at his feet. "I need to go out for a bit. You can rest here for a while. I'll leave the window open for you. If you want to leave, just go—"

After the instructions, Bryan waved his hand to make the design diagram on the table jump into the drawer. He hurriedly left his office. Twenty minutes later, he arrived outside Dumbledore's office door.

Without waiting for Bryan to say the password, the two stone gargoyles guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office slowly moved aside, allowing the sturdy wooden door to swing open with a creak.

"Bryan?"

As Bryan strode into the room, he saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, reading a letter. Judging from the serious expression on his face it seemed he too had encountered some troubling matters. After discovering who the visitor was, he put down the letter, took off his half-moon glasses, rubbed his brow, and put them on again.

And Bryan's solemn expression also immediately made Dumbledore realize that he had also encountered some things that needed attention on his side.

Fawkes, who was perched on the golden branch, looked listless before Bryan came in, but when he saw him, he immediately raised his head excitedly, his ruby-like eyes flashing with light, as if expecting something.

When passing by Fawkes, Bryan smiled at it. He knew that Fawkes had probably stayed in Dumbledore's office for a bit too long and was eager to go out for a "walk".

"It's like this, Headmaster Dumbledore, I just received a letter from Sirius—"

Bryan quickly walked to the desk. Without waiting for Dumbledore's invitation, he pulled out a chair and sat down. He didn't exchange much pleasantries and said concisely,

"You know I've been asking Sirius to help keep an eye on Barty Crouch's movements."

This topic immediately aroused Dumbledore's concern. His expression became much more solemn, maintaining a listening posture.

"Just yesterday morning, Barty Crouch submitted an abrupt request to the Ministry for an extended leave of absence," Bryan explained, his words tumbling out in a rush. "He claimed that the injuries he sustained during his inspection of the Dragon Reserve in Hungary never properly healed, leaving him in constant pain and unable to focus on his duties.

So, he made the decision to recuperate at home for a while. Furthermore, he directly refused Fudge's recommendation to recuperate at St Mungo's Hospital, He handed over his daily work to Percy. If there was anything important, He said Percy could write to him to report it."

"How audacious!"

Among the portraits of modern headmasters hanging on the side wall, Armando Dippet immediately shouted in his frame. These portraits were all aware of the inside story, and the other headmasters immediately started whispering and discussing with friends in adjacent frames.

"What do you think this means, Bryan?"

Dumbledore's eyes also shot out a sharp light. He certainly wouldn't think that Senior Barty was really too ill to work, but at the same time, he also had the same doubts as Bryan—from any angle, Voldemort would not let Barty die without a clear reason now.

"I can't say for certain," Bryan shook his head in contemplation. "However, I believe we can't continue overlooking the situation with Barty any longer. We need to take action and investigate further."

"But you should be clear, Bryan, if Tom is really staying at Barty's house right now, then if you rashly enter, it may ruin our plan—"

Dumbledore said seriously.

Bryan's eyebrows moved slightly, a little surprised.

On the matter of Barty Crouch, Dumbledore's decisiveness and ruthlessness exceeded his expectations. However, this was also a very normal thing. Letting Voldemort be completely done for was probably something Dumbledore had to accomplish in his little remaining life. To achieve this goal, he did not hesitate to sacrifice some people's lives.

Just like Alastor Moody. Dumbledore clearly knew that his old friend had fallen into enemy hands and was most likely being held in the fake Moody's office, but for such a long time, he had never tried to rescue him.

"If Voldemort is indeed lurking within Barty's house, you're right that I can't simply sneak in under his nonexistent nose undetected. But consider this from another angle - what if I don't need to sneak in at all?"

Bryan still insisted on his own opinion.

Allowing Voldemort to return was the consensus of him and Dumbledore, but in order to control the risk spillover, it was necessary to fully grasp the development of things.

All the actions on Cliodna's line could not escape his eyes. From various signs, it seemed that she was not really loyal to Voldemort. The cooperation agreement reached between the two before was probably that Cliodna needed to help Voldemort resurrect, and what Cliodna demanded was probably that after Voldemort regained power, he would help her take revenge on the Vatican.

"Barty and I are currently colleagues. I happen to have some reasonable reasons to visit openly, which won't arouse any suspicion—"

On the way to Dumbledore's office, Bryan had already thought of some reasons.

"All right."

After hearing Bryan's reasons for visiting, Dumbledore lowered his brows and pondered for a while. It could be seen that he was still not very willing for Bryan to take risks, but he also knew that he could not forcefully intervene.

Looking at the young man sitting across from him, with increasing determination between his brows and authority naturally revealed in his gestures, Dumbledore sighed in his heart. He suddenly missed the days half a century ago when he and Newt worked together to expose Gellert's conspiracy to ascend to the presidency of the International Confederation of Wizards. At that time, everything was up to them young guys but now the young ones are no longer young.

"I can't find any faults, Bryan. I think if Barty really agrees to your visit, Tom probably won't be hiding behind a door eavesdropping on your conversation. You probably won't run into each other in Barty's house—"

Dumbledore's nod also made Bryan let out a sigh of relief.

His relationship with Dumbledore was more like an alliance. In order to ensure the stability of this alliance, it was necessary to obtain the other party's consent before major actions. If they each did their own thing, internal strife would almost be an inevitable result.

"There's one more thing—"

Dumbledore originally thought that Bryan would set off immediately to investigate, but he did not leave. Instead, he showed a little hesitation.

"Regarding Voldemort's Horcruxes, Headmaster Dumbledore, how much exact information do you have now?"

Voldemort's Horcruxes—

This seemed to be a magical sentence. When Bryan said this, the former headmasters on the wall who had been discussing Bryan's decision to investigate Barty's house fell silent one after another. Even the ding-dong little sounds in the office seemed to disappear.

"Voldemort's Horcruxes, exact information—"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his old face shrouded in shadows. He looked at Bryan and said softly,

"If you're asking about exact information, Bryan, I think we know the same amount. Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, and the notebook Tom left behind when he was studying at Hogwarts were all destroyed by you. And, we were also extremely fortunate to know that Hufflepuff's cup was also most likely a Horcrux. Of course, now we still cannot determine the whereabouts of the cup. Finally, there's Harry—"

In Dumbledore's blue eyes, the sharp gaze fell on Bryan, but his voice was still soft.

"What's wrong, Bryan? Are you going to surprise me again?"

"I'm afraid I must disappoint you this time, Headmaster. I don't have a new Horcrux to scare you this time—"

Bryan smiled. He stood up, his wand silently sliding into his palm from his sleeve.

"But I do have a clue. There's something that might also possibly be a Horcrux—"

A few wisps of black mist emerged from the tip of Bryan's wand, twisting and gradually taking shape in front of Dumbledore, who had an extremely solemn expression. Finally, it turned into an unremarkable black stone.

"It should look something like this. Of course, there might be some differences. Actually, it should be a decoration on a gold ring—"

Bryan stared at the black stone in midair and said slowly.

The silence lasted a little too long. Bryan finally realized that something was wrong. He turned his head to look at Dumbledore, and his expression suddenly changed with shock.

At some point, the seriousness on Dumbledore's face had disappeared and had become very complicated, mixed with surprise, nostalgia, longing, vigilance, and regret.

Bryan only sensed these from the thoughts emanating from Dumbledore's turbulent emotions, but soon, these emotions were restrained by Dumbledore.

"How did you know about it, Bryan?"

After what felt like an interminable silence, Dumbledore finally broke the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper.

"How did you come by this knowledge, Bryan?"

Dumbledore asked softly.

"I was investigating some things and accidentally learned that Salazar Slytherin once owned this stone, and he probably intended to pass it down as an important heirloom—"

Bryan narrowed his eyes and looked at Dumbledore.

"But I'm not quite sure if it has fallen into Voldemort's hands. It seems that you have seen this stone before, haven't you, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

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