The day did not seem to end for Barty Crouch. He had not even overcome the grief of losing one of his dear friends when he received an urgent summon from the Ministry.
At first, he had been furious at being disturbed in the night especially after what had happened in the day, but once he heard the matter, 'shock' was far too mild a word to describe what he felt.
An attack on Bones Manor. Eight Death Eaters killed. And among them, Reinhart Lestrange. The Lestrange patriarch himself.
The gravity of it was staggering. Perhaps even ten incidents of Antonio killing two Death Eaters would not come close to the severity of what had just occurred.
"And then the final spell left my wand…" Edmund sighed wearily. "I had not wanted to kill, but they forced my hand."
"Even after my repeated warnings, they kept pushing forward. To save my life and my daughter's, I had to do what I did. This was the first time she, Amelia, had to kill someone. She is still in shock and had not been able to overcome that she killed a man even if it was death eater. It will take few days for her to heal of the trauma."
"And then, when I removed their masks and saw that one of them was Reinhart…" He was mid sentence when Barty Crouch rushed into Bones Hall.
"Lord Bones," he almost snapped. "What are you doing?"
Edmund did not so much as flinch, though the old man with a dicta quill floating beside him and old looking camera hung around his neck, recoiled in fear.
"Giving an interview," Edmund replied casually. In an instant, all the weariness and exhaustion vanished from his face.
"And just because I have let my wards allow entry for all so that I do not have to deal with the hassle of granting every person separate permission does not mean you can barge in my mansion in any way you like. Maintain some decorum."
"You cannot do this," Barty said through gritted teeth, referring to the interview.
"Oh!" Edmund sneered. "And who made these rules? You?"
"You should not have allowed a reporter inside the mansion," Barty argued. "We are still investigating."
"And not only did you allow him in, you let him take photographs and Merlin knows what else. You should have informed the Aurors first but that was the last thing you did."
"Was it not your duty to stop these criminals?" Edmund countered sharply. "At least I reported what happened. I could just as easily have buried the bodies in my lawn."
"You—" Barty almost trembled with anger. "We received reports of loud noises from this area. But when the Aurors arrived, your wards were intact. We thought nothing had happened at your manor and began searching the neighbouring houses."
"That is not my problem, Crouch," Edmund's voice rose.
"Should I have left my wards open so that Death Eaters could call for reinforcements? I did what I had to do to keep myself and my daughter safe. I am fully aware of competent or incompetent the aurors are."
"Do not lecture me," he snapped.
Barty clenched his fists in frustration. He had already received the Aurors' reports. By the time they reached the manor, the reporter had been busily taking photographs of the slain Death Eaters. Their masks had been removed, their faces and the Dark Marks on their forearms, all of it had been captured. And probably was going to appear in the newspaper morning.
Barty turned sharply toward the reporter. This was his last resort.
"You. Hand over the camera and the parchment," he ordered in a cold, arrogant tone.
"That is not happening, Crouch," Edmund intervened from the side.
"If you publish this, I will have you dragged into a Ministry cell," Barty warned. "You will be tried for disrupting an Auror investigation and for fabrication of evidence. You do realise what you have done is a crime, do you not?"
Barty ignored Edmund completely, his glare fixed on the old reporter. He was hoping to frighten the old reporter into submission.
"Oh!" Edmund chuckled. "I think you are getting rather bad at recognising people, Crouch."
"If you did not recognise which newspaper he represents," Edmund grinned, "then at least look at his badge."
Barty narrowed his eyes at the badge pinned to the man's chest.
"The Magical Times," he muttered and realisation of plot struck him.
"Correct," Edmund said. "And I believe you must be aware who owns eighty percent of the Magical Times?"
"Lord Charlus Potter," Edmund continued smoothly. "This old man is here under Charlus Potter's orders, and whatever he has done has been done on those orders. So, if anyone is interfering in your investigation, it is Lord Potter."
"Now tell me, Crouch, do you have the courage and the guts to drag Lord Potter into a Ministry cell?" Edmund smirked. "And then try him for all the charges you just recited now."
The firm resolve drained from Barty's face. The old man, realising his chance, hurried out of the hall and Barty did not make a move to stop him.
"A wise decision you made, Barty Crouch," Edmund smiled.
"You did not do the right thing, Lord Bones," Barty sighed.
"I did the right thing," Edmund insisted. "Stop hiding and veiling the crimes of the Death Eaters. That is not the right approach."
"Let Wizarding Britain know that if they are disagreed with even slightly, these Death Eaters will not hesitate to kill even the very people they claim to protect. A pure blood," Edmund said, pointing to himself.
"And the world should also know that they are not invincible. That their heads can be severed. That their skulls, too, pop like watermelons when struck by a Bombarda Maxima. That they, too, can be killed."
"Two incidents in ten days where Death Eaters were slaughtered like the scum and the low lives they are. Ten killed in total. It will give the common people courage to fight back."
"I did the right thing, Barty," Edmund said again, releasing a deep breath. His voice was full of conviction.
Barty did not reply. He did not know what to say.
"If you need me for the investigation, I will be in the guest room with Amelia," Edmund said as he walked out of the hall.
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