The Son of Light of the Snake House

Harry gradually calmed down, because he found that the people around him seemed to be unable to see him, as if he was a transparent person, and he was watching other people's memories.

After the initial panic faded, Harry began to survey the place, which had rows upon rows of seats extending upwards, surrounding the chained one in the middle.

Looks like it's for an interrogation.Harry thought so.

Before he could continue observing, he heard footsteps.A door at the corner of the dungeon opened, and in came three persons—at least one of whom was human, held hostage by two dementors.

Harry's internal organs suddenly became cold.The two dementors walked slowly towards the armchair in the center of the room, their rotting, dead hands clutching the arm of the man in the center.The man looked like he was about to pass out, and Harry didn't think he could be blamed for it... Although Harry knew that the dementors couldn't hurt him in his memory, he almost got ptsd from them, and the people around him looked the same, Shrunken, the Dementor put the man in the chained chair and walked out of the room, closing the door.

The man looked familiar too—Karkaroff.He looked terrified.

"Igor Karkaroff," said a voice.Harry turned his head to see Mr. Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside him.He looked energetic, "You were brought out of Azkaban to testify to the Ministry of Magic. You told us that you had important information to report to us."

"Yes, yes... I would like to serve the Ministry of Magic. I would like to help - and I know the Ministry of Magic is - hunting down the remnants of the Dark Lord. I would do my best to assist you..."

"Then you start." Crouch made a final decision. "Tell us about it."

After a series of determined nonsense, Karkaroff uttered the names Harry didn't recognize one by one.

"But we already know about Travers and Mulciber," Crouch said. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that's all, you'll be sent back to Azkaban until we decide— —”

"No!" Karkaroff yelled desperately, "Wait a minute, I still have more!" In the light of the torch, Harry saw him dripping juice, his pale skin contrasting sharply with his black beard and hair.

"Snape!" he cried, "Severus Snape!"

Harry felt an inexplicable sense of pride, as if the result of guessing long ago was in line with the truth.

"Snape has been acquitted by the Council," Crouch said contemptuously. "Albus Dumbledore has vouched for him."

"No!" Karkaroff yelled, struggling to break free from the chains that bound him to the chair. "I promise you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"

Dumbledore stood up, and quickly resolved his "guarantee".Karkaroff was dragged down.

Other voices fade away.Harry looked around, the dungeon was dissipating like smoke, everything was fading away, he could only see his own body - everything else turned into swirling darkness...

Then, the dungeon appeared again.Harry took another seat, still on the top bench, but now he was to Mr. Crouch's left.The atmosphere seemed quite different from before: very relaxed, even cheerful.The wizards on all sides were talking to each other, as if they were watching a sports game.

The next person brought in was Bagman, and when he came in, it was like a sports star at a fan meeting, and he kept making jokes, playing dumb, saying things that anyone but Crouch could Appreciate the jokes, even the witches of the jury fell for his humor, and of course, he was released, even able to continue his work at the Ministry of Magic.

"...What's so good about him." Harry couldn't help muttering, he couldn't play as well as Krum, he liked to gamble, and he even looked like that - Draco was a little better than him!

Harry hadn't finished his sentence when he suddenly saw a witch in the front row turn her head, sweep her sharp eyes every inch of it, and finally landed on Harry's face.

Harry knew clearly that this was a memory, but he still couldn't help it, and grinned guiltily.

The dungeon disappeared again, and when it just appeared, the sound came out before the picture.

"You were brought before the Magical Law Council for sentencing—" Crouch said clearly,

"Father," the straw-haired boy licked his lips, "Father...please..."

Mr. Crouch raised his voice over his son's voice, "We have heard the allegations against you that the four of you kidnapped an Auror, Frank Longbottom, and cast the Cruciatus Curse on him in order to get from him. Find out the whereabouts of your master—"

"Father, I didn't!" screamed the boy bound to the chair, "I didn't, I swear, Father, don't send me back to the dementors—"

"The accusation goes on," roared Mr. Crouch, "that when Frank Longbottom refused to provide information, you used the Cruciatus Curse on his wife. You conspired to bring You-Know-Who up again, to restore him to power—"

"Mother!" the boy yelled, and the skinny witch next to Crouch sobbed and rocked back and forth, "Mother, stop him, Mother, I didn't do those things, it wasn't me!"

"I now invite the jury to vote," cried Mr. Crouch, "those who agree with me that these crimes should be punished with life in Azkaban, raise your hands!"

The wizards on the right side of the dungeon raised their hands in unison.The surrounding audience applauded as they did at Bagman's trial, with expressions of brutal triumph on their faces.The boy started screaming.

"No! Mother, no! It wasn't me, it wasn't me, I don't know! Don't send me there, stop him!"

Dementors drifted in slowly.The boy's three companions stood up from their chairs silently, and one of them, a woman with long eyelashes, raised her head and shouted to Crouch: "The Dark Lord will return, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban, we Wait! He will come back to save us. He will reward us especially! Only we are faithful! Only we try to find him!"

Harry gasped, because this was the woman he had seen when his scar hurt, the punished woman!

As the boy struggles to get rid of the dementor, the audience laughs, some stand up.The woman walked proudly out of the dungeon, and the boy still resisted.

"I am your son!" he shouted to Crouch, "Your son!"

"You're not my son!" Crouch roared, his eyes popping out suddenly. "I don't have a son!"

The thin witch gasped and passed out.Crouch didn't seem to notice.

"Take them away!" he snarled at the dementor, spitting, "Take them away, and let them rot there!"

"Father! Father, I didn't participate! Don't! Don't! Father, please!"

"Harry." A voice whispered in his ear, "I think we should go back."

Harry turned his head abruptly, his face pale and sweat dripping down his back.To his right sat an Albus Dumbledore, watching Crouch's son being dragged away by the Dementors - and to his left was another Dumbledore, watching him.

"Come on," said Dumbledore on the left, putting his hand on Harry's elbow.Harry felt himself rising slowly into the air, and the dungeon dissipated, leaving only darkness in an instant.Then he felt as though he were doing a slow-motion somersault, and his feet dropped to the ground suddenly, in the blinding light, and he was already in Dumbledore's sunny office.The stone basin gleamed in the chest in front of him, and Dumbledore stood beside him.

The author has something to say:

After being at home, I fight with the cats every day. When two cats fight, they try to persuade them to fight. If they can’t be persuaded, they beat each other. After the fight, one person who is not convinced will be given a piece of freeze-dried chicken breast, and then throw it outside to play...