HP Magic Biography

The genius remembers the address of this site in a second: (Apex Chinese), the fastest update! No advertisements! Dumbledore's office shook violently - Harry was thrown forward and fell headlong into the things in the pot go.

But his head didn't touch the bottom of the basin, he fell into something dark and cold, and he kept sinking, as if sucked into a black vortex.

Suddenly, Harry found himself sitting on a stool in that room, which was taller than the others.

He looked at the high stone ceiling for the circular window from which he had just looked down.

But there was nothing there, only black, hard stone. Gasping for breath, Harry looked around him.

Not a single witch or wizard in the room (there were at least two hundred) was looking at him.

None of them seemed to notice that a fourteen-year-old boy had just fallen from the ceiling and fell among them.

Harry turned to a wizard sitting next to him, and suddenly let out a cry that echoed through the dead silence of the room.

He was sitting next to Albus Dumbledore.

This was really bad, Harry felt that he was going to be killed by Fan Lin.

Professor! Harry said in a low voice, I'm sorry - I didn't really want to - I was just looking at the stone basin in your cupboard - I - where am I?

But Professor Dumbledore didn't move or speak, completely ignoring Harry's presence, just staring at a door in the far corner of the room like everyone else.

Harry stared at Dumbledore in bewilderment, then at the silently watching crowd, then at Dumbledore.

Suddenly, Harry had a flash of inspiration... There was a time when Harry found himself in a world where he could neither be seen nor heard.

That time, he fell into an enchanted diary and entered someone's memory... Similar things happened again.

Yes, Fan Lin also said before, this is Dumbledore's memory.

So, now he should be in the Pensieve and was pulled in by Fan Lin, but Fan Lin...

Harry raised his right hand, hesitated, then reached out to Dumbledore and swung it vigorously.

Dumbledore didn't blink, didn't look back at Harry, or didn't move at all.

So he was sure that he was in a memory, and the one in front of him was not the real Dumbledore.

But it shouldn't be a long time ago... The Dumbledore sitting next to him has silver-white hair, just like the real Dumbledore. But what is this place? The Wizengamot that Fan Lin mentioned? What are all these wizards waiting for?

Harry looked at it more closely. As he had suspected when looking at it from above, this room was underground—more of a dungeon than a room, he thought. There was an air of eerie coldness and terror: there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all; the whole room was just rows of seats, each higher than the last, secured so that they could clearly see the There are iron chains on the armrests of the chairs.

Before Harry could draw conclusions about the room, he heard footsteps.

The door in the corner of the dungeon opened, and three men entered—one held by two dementors.

Harry felt cold all over. The dementors—tall, helmeted, eye-showing creatures—slid toward the chair in the middle of the room, each clutching one of the man's arms.

Their hands were dead, rotting, and the man between them looked like he was about to faint. Harry figured it wasn't his fault... although he knew the dementors wouldn't touch him because it was in a memory, he was still a little scared because he remembered how powerful they were.

The crowd recoiled as the dementor slid out of the room after placing the man on the chained chair, and the door closed behind them.

Harry looked down at the man in the chair,

It turned out he was Karkaroff.

Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were dark.

But the difference was that he was wearing thin, ragged clothes instead of smooth leather, and he was shaking. Suddenly the chains on the chair gleamed golden, and snaked up his arms, binding him there.

Yiggo Karkaroff. A voice suddenly came from Harry's left. He looked around and saw Mr. Crouch standing in the middle of the seat next to him.

Crouch's hair was still black, and his face, not so wrinkled, looked cool and quick.

You were brought from Azkaban to give evidence to the Ministry of Magic, and you said you had important news for us.

Karkaroff quickly straightened his body.

I have, sir, he said, and although his voice sounded terribly frightened, Harry recognized the familiar glib.

I want to be useful to the Ministry, I want to help. I - I know the Ministry is rounding up the last remnants of the Dark Lord. I am eager to help as best I can...

There was a hum from the audience.

Some became interested in Karkaroff, others were skeptical.

Suddenly, a familiar growl came from the other side of Dumbledore: Trash!

Harry leaned forward, looking past Dumbledore.

Sure enough, there was Moody the Eye sitting there—though he looked remarkably different.

He has no magic eyes yet, only two ordinary eyes. He was squinting at Karkaroff with utter disgust.

Crouch's going to let him out, Moody whispered to Dumbledore. He's got a deal with him. It took me six months to hunt him down, if he can provide enough new lists, Crouch just let him go. Let's get his intel first, I said, before throwing him straight at the dementors.

Dumbledore's long hooked nose snorted in disapproval.

Oh, I forgot...you don't like dementors, do you, Albus? Moody had a mocking smile on his face.

Yes, said Dumbledore flatly, I don't like them, and I always thought it was a mistake for the Ministry to ally itself with such creatures.

But with this crap... Moody said softly.

You said you could supply us with names, Karkaroff, said Mr. Crouch, then please tell me.

You should understand, Karkaroff said hastily, that 'the man' always manipulated everything in the most secretive way... He liked that, and we - I mean, his followers - now I regret it , very sorry, I used to be one of them—”

Go on! Moody snorted.

—we never knew the names of our fellows—he alone knew who we all were—

What a clever idea, that protects people like you, Karkaroff, and sells out everyone else, Moody grunted.

But you said you could give us names? said Mr. Crouch.

I, I can. Karkaroff said out of breath, They are very important partisans, I am not afraid to tell you, I saw him, he is waiting for the opportunity, I provide this information to show that I am completely in touch with him to break with him, and to express my deep pity and sympathy for him, I hardly...

What's their name? said Mr. Crouch sharply. Karkaroff took a deep breath. It's Anthony Dorabonfer, he said. I - I've seen him torture and torture Muggles and... no, the Dark Lord's people countless times.

And help him torture them too, Moody muttered. We have Dorabenfer in custody, Krauss said. He was caught shortly after you.

Really? said Karkeroff, his eyes widening. I'm--I'm--delighted to hear that!

But he doesn't look like that at all.

Harry thought it was a blow to him that one of the names he could offer was no longer available.

Is there anything else? Crouch said coldly.

Why, of course... and Rosl, Karkaroff said hastily, Evan. Rosl.

Rosel is dead, and he was caught shortly after you. He seemed to prefer to resist rather than come obediently, so he was beaten to death in the recalcitrance.

Give me credit for that, too, Moody whispered to the man on Harry's right, and Harry looked at him again, and saw him pointing to Dumbledore the big wooden block stuck in his nose .

No—not too much, he deserved it! said Karkaroff, with a hint of panic in his voice, and it was evident that he was beginning to fear that none of his information would be of use.

Karkeroff's eyes were fixed on the door in the corner, beyond which there was no doubt that a dementor was guarding it.

Any more? Klaus said.

Yes! Karkaroff said. And Trevis--he murdered McGindles! Malheber--who was skilled in the Impares spell, and drove countless men to do terrible deeds! Rockwood, he was a spy, specialized in Pass information to 'the man' from the Ministry of Magic!

It can be said that Karkaroff's words worked this time, and the audience began to whisper.

Rockwood? said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who immediately scribbled on the parchment, Rockwood of the Mysteries Branch ?”

That's right, Karkaroff said hastily. I think he runs a network of people who specialize in gathering intelligence from inside and outside the Ministry—

But we already know about Trevis and Malheber, Mr. Crouch said. Very good, Karkaroff, if that's all, you can go back to Azkaban and wait for us to decide—

It's not over yet! Karkaroff yelled, looking desperate. Wait a minute, I have more! In the faint light of the torch, Harry saw that he was sweating coldly, and his face was frighteningly white, in stark contrast to his black hair and beard.

Snape! he cried, Severus Snape!

Snape has been excluded from Parliament, Crouch said coldly, Mr. Albus Dumbledore vouched for him.

Impossible! Karkaroff roared, his chains tightening. I promise you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!

Dumbledore stood up. I've provided proof for that, he said calmly. Severus Snape is indeed a Death Eater. But before Lord Voldemort's downfall, he turned to us and worked undercover for us. Giving information. He personally risked his life. He's not a Death Eater now.