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Self-fulfilling prophecy...

Cohen rembered the prediction he'd seen last sester, about Sirius Black getting the "Dentor's kiss"... He was already trying to reject that future.

Could that make this future arrive even faster?

Maybe he should just do it himself—the prophecy only showed the scene of a Dentor sucking Sirius's soul, it didn't specify which Dentor...

Fudge definitely wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Cohen's Dentor form and any other Dentor.

But that wasn't what Cohen should be doing right now. He had two things to take care of this holiday. First, find Barty Crouch Jr., because Voldemort said Barty Jr. knew where Riddle Manor was, and that's where the Portkey's destination needed to be. Second, towards the end of the holiday, he had to visit Nicolas Flal's workshop; Nicolas had sothing to give Cohen.

And Cohen scheduled the first task for the night of Christmas Day.

Old Crouch would definitely be ho, which would make it easier for Cohen to pin the "credit" for killing Barty Jr. on him.

He couldn't exactly go back and tell Voldemort, "Your loyal subordinate got accidentally taken out by yours truly," could he?

After spending the rest of Christmas Day, Cohen opened the window at nine o'clock and left "Fake Cohen" in bed.

Pretending to be alive was easy to ss up; pretending to be asleep was much simpler.

Flying out the window again, Cohen headed towards Wiltshire, casually grabbing his suitcase.

He'd found the address in Edward's phone book. Of course, the wizarding world didn't have phones, just an address—and the Crouch family's address was on the edge of the Wiltshire moors.

As one of Britain's ancient pure-blood wizarding families, the Crouches also had a deeply established manor. And thanks to Barty Crouch Sr.'s past glorious political career, the place had been renovated many tis with top-notch quality.

The manor was layered with Muggle-Repelling Charms and Concealnt Charms cast by the Ministry of Magic, and the outer periter had a Howler jinx set up for intruders.

It was in the sa county as Malfoy Manor, but they kept a certain distance.

Inside the manor was a gloomy Gothic stone castle. The Crouch family's crest—a sword piercing a book of laws with the motto "Law Above All"—floated above the outer iron railings.

Cohen couldn't get in with his physical body yet—Old Crouch had also set up a spell around the manor to detect Dentors, to prevent them from finding his son.

Even though Barty Crouch Jr. was, in the eyes of everyone in the wizarding world, a "Death Eater who had already died in Azkaban," Old Crouch was still extrely worried about it.

So, his soul would have to do.

As long as Cohen didn't actively materialize his soul into a full-fledged Dentor, his soul could easily pass through these ordinary protective spells.

Good thing he brought the suitcase; Cohen wouldn't have to just dump his body in the nearby moors.

Leaving his body in the wooden cabin, Cohen's soul floated out of the suitcase, passing over the Crouch family's fence without triggering any spells, and entered the "castle" that looked ancient.

The Crouch family's hallways were lined with portraits of past family mbers who had served as Ministry of Magic officials, but Cohen noticed they all had their mouths clamped shut. It was probably because Barty Crouch Sr. loathed portraits gossiping about family scandals and had used so kind of silencing charm on them.

It was weird how Sirius Black couldn't use a spell like that on his mother's loud and nagging portrait.

Cohen passed by so rooms that had been ticulously modified.

A reception room with listening charms hidden in the wallpaper; a library cramd with draft revisions of the International Statute of Secrecy and trial records, with books from all sorts of professions but not a single children's book... There was even a dust-covered miniature courtroom, complete with a witness stand, an iron defendant's chair, and restraining chains.

The main hall was hidden in the deepest part of the house. Inside, there was a long table, a fire crackling rrily in the fireplace. Old Crouch, in his pajamas, looked like he should have gone to bed ages ago, but he was still sitting there all alone, staring blankly at the far end of the table in the desolate hall.

Behind a door in the hall was the kitchen, where Cohen could hear the sounds of the Crouch family's house-elf, Winky, preparing food—he couldn't tell if it was for Old Crouch or Barty Jr.

Barty Jr. wasn't there. Cohen decided to float further upwards.

Cohen rembered that Old Crouch had been controlling his son with the Imperius Curse all along to prevent him from escaping.

So, Barty Jr. was probably in his original bedroom now.

But even after Cohen had explored the two floors above, he still hadn't found any sign of other living people. Barty Crouch Jr.'s bedroom still looked exactly as it had over a decade ago. Winky had been cleaning it according to Old Crouch's instructions, but Cohen couldn't see any signs of anyone living there.

It was as if only Old Crouch lived here. Cohen even went up to the attic, which was piled high with junk, but there was no sign of Barty Jr. either.

Did a father need to hide his son this deeply? The Ministry of Magic wouldn't suddenly search his house without a word—especially with all those protective enchantnts outside.

Besides, Barty Jr. had "already died in Azkaban" many years ago...

However, Cohen did find so interesting things in the attic.

A trunk full of letters that Barty Crouch Sr. had written to his son.

Out of curiosity, Cohen solidified his soul for a mont and secretly read a few of them.

They were "confession letters." It was hard to imagine soone like Old Crouch writing confession letters to his Death Eater son—but in the letters Cohen saw, the end of each one had been heavily crossed out with black ink and replaced with a sharp sentence:

"You deserve it."

This family was better at creating madn than Azkaban.

Stuffing all the letters back into the trunk, Cohen turned his head and made his soul ethereal again, continuing his search for Barty Jr.'s location.

If he wasn't on these floors, then he could only be underground.

Cohen dove headfirst downwards. No matter what kind of concealing spells had been cast on the entrance to the basent, as long as it existed, Cohen could always find it.

After passing through several thick floors, Cohen found a dimly lit basent cell.

It was built solely for one person. The square cell had only one door leading in and a ventilation hole the size of a bowl.

Barty Crouch Jr. was chained to the corner, looking drowsy.

In another corner, several decaying copies of the Daily Prophet were scattered. Cohen could see the headline "Minister Crouch Disowns Son" on them.

The walls near Barty Jr. were covered in crooked scratches that read "I will be free." There were also so later shoe prints kicked into them, likely by Old Crouch in a fit of anger.

This was even worse than Azkaban.

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