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HP:BSG - Chapter 693: Lies and Truth
🕑 Added 2025-11-12 11:30:05 +0000 UTCDumbledore had thought Wade wouldn’t understand—but in truth, Wade clearly grasped the Headmaster’s intent.
Voldemort had returned again and again with each resurrection coming sooner than the last.
Certainly, part of that was due to Barty Crouch Jr.’s unwavering service to his master.
Yet with every return, Voldemort would inevitably find more followers like Barty, Quirrell, and Peter Pettigrew—those seduced by darkness, enslaved by power, or cowed by fear.
But as long as Harry lived, Voldemort could never truly die—because the “Boy Who Lived” was, by pure accident, a fragmented Horcrux, a vessel carrying a shard of Voldemort’s own soul.
Only if Voldemort, during his resurrection, reestablished a blood link with Harry and then personally killed him could the soul fragment within Harry be destroyed—while still allowing Harry himself to survive.
Otherwise, the only way to kill Voldemort would be to kill Harry Potter first.
The mysterious and intricate magical theory behind all this was something perhaps only Dumbledore fully understood. In matters of magic, he had gone further than anyone else.
Even Wade—despite having read the original story—found it all as hazy as mist and moonlight reflected on water. He thought he understood, but the more he pondered it, the less sense it made.
So, like most people, he could only follow the Headmaster’s instructions and trust in the wisdom of the greatest white wizard alive.
Yet deep down, Wade doubted that Dumbledore himself was entirely certain that Harry would survive. The Headmaster was merely hoping that it might work, grasping desperately at that one slender chance.
To eliminate Voldemort completely, Dumbledore refused to bear the cost of waiting any longer. He had pushed an underage Harry toward a path of self-sacrifice—a choice that made Wade keenly aware of the old man’s ruthlessness.
And yet, that same man had exhausted every ounce of his strength to secure even the faintest hope of Harry’s survival.
For that hope, he was willing to sacrifice himself, to shoulder the doubts and resentment of those who followed him. This made Wade’s feelings toward him painfully complex.
But there was one point on which Wade and Dumbledore fundamentally disagreed.
The Headmaster wanted Harry to live happily as an ordinary student—ignorant of his fate until the very end, when he would finally understand his purpose.
Wade, however, believed Harry had the right to know what he was facing—and the right to choose. Even if the outcome didn’t change, a destiny chosen by oneself was entirely different from being a pawn moved across the board.
Of course, in front of the magical cameras, Wade couldn’t possibly reveal the whole truth.
Just moments earlier, while examining the enchantments carved onto the Goblet of Fire, he had already pieced together all the clues. Now, seeing the shock widen Harry’s eyes, Wade said slowly:
“I think you haven’t forgotten—back in our first year, he possessed Professor Quirrell, trying to steal the Philosopher’s Stone hidden in the school. You stopped him in the end.”
Harry’s stomach twisted at the memory of the second face on the back of Quirrell’s head.
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.”
—I know, Wade thought silently. I know you’ll never forget. But the audience out there—they might not all understand.
They deserve to know.
If good deeds are always buried in silence, then the vain and self-serving will seize the moral high ground; If true merit goes unrecognized, then the noise of shallow ambition will drown out everything else.
Just as when Dumbledore kept silent — men like Fudge, Umbridge, and Lockhart instead stepped into the spotlight, basking in admiration and trust from the ignorant masses.
Wade reached up and touched the badge pinned to his chest — it looked entirely like a common Softlight badge, shaped as a small robin. Aside from making the wearer appear more composed and radiant, it was also said to bring a bit of good luck.
“After that,” Wade continued, “everyone knows that Peter Pettigrew escaped from Azkaban. But what most people don’t know is that another Death Eater loyal to Voldemort also slipped free.”
Harry blinked. “Who?”
“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Wade said.
Harry looked slightly bewildered, but outside the maze — across the entire British Ministry of Magic — shock rippled once more.
That war had ended barely more than a decade ago. Except for some of the younger generation, most witches and wizards had not forgotten those thunderous names.
Barty Crouch Jr. had been captured near the very end of the conflict — one of the last, most significant Death Eaters to be caught.
During Voldemort’s reign, Crouch had still been a student, with no notorious deeds to his name; few knew he had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord’s followers.
When Voldemort fell, Crouch was captured alongside the Lestranges. Because of his father’s prominent position, the news had sent shockwaves through wizarding Britain — many still remembered the disbelief they’d felt at the time.
Wade briefly explained who Barty Crouch Jr. was, and how he’d escaped punishment — then described how he had taken on another’s identity and infiltrated Hogwarts.
“With their help,” Wade said, “Voldemort rose again — orchestrating the two attacks during the Quidditch World Cup: the forest corruption, and the rampaging mascots.”
Harry clenched his fists. “So it was them.”
How many had died that night? To this day, the Ministry of Magic could not give a definite number.
Afterward, both Bulgaria and Ireland’s reputations plummeted, and Britain’s Ministry of Magic only avoided becoming a permanent pariah because it had already arranged to host the interschool magic tournament.
Wade nodded, scanning their surroundings carefully before continuing:
“After that, he went quiet for a while—”
Of course, that was only because Voldemort’s body had once again been completely destroyed, forcing him into “silence.” But there was no need to reveal that part to the wizarding world yet.
At this moment, Wade Grey was still, to everyone else, a Hogwarts student favored by Dumbledore — someone who knew more than most, but not everything.
“—But during that period, dark magic attacks kept occurring around the world. There’s no solid evidence, but I don’t believe those events were entirely unrelated.”
“At the same time, he sent Barty Crouch Jr. to infiltrate Hogwarts and disrupt the tournament. We uncovered his identity a few days ago — but when we were preparing to hand him over to the Ministry, he escaped. That man learned more from Voldemort than most could ever imagine.”
A clever lie must always be wrapped in the clothing of truth.
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